#.at this point i think i just don't want to remember ....
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kaijutegu · 4 hours ago
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Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators
Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!
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(Yes, it's this Coconut.)
And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)
So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.
Body Support
In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!
In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.
Head and Throat Support
In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.
Body Language
Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)
But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.
We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!
One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.
In conclusion:
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Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!
That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 days ago
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You Can Say You Love Me Now
Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: A little fake dating trope, just in time for Valentine's day
word count: 3k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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It was the perfect plan really. Or it had seemed like it at the time. When fueled by frustration, love, and desperation, what could go wrong? Theo had loved you for as long as he could remember and he wasn’t afraid to admit that. To himself at least. But to you, well, that was a bit more challenging.
Coming from a pure blood family, a sacred 28 family no less, Theodore’s fate had been sealed long before he was even born. Destined to marry another rich, pure blood heiress, have children, and secure the Nott legacy another generation. All ridiculous nonsense if you asked Theodore. What was the point of tradition anyway? Pretty much everyone who cared was already dead, so what did it matter?
Unfortunately for Theo, his father was not dead and had been trying to find a suitable match for what felt like years at this point. Names of witches that Theo couldn’t even match a face to had been floated by, but Theo had spoiled each and every potential match and his father had been growing increasingly more agitated by the day.
That’s when it had struck him. Kill two birds with one stone. Get his father off his back and gain the perfect opportunity to win over the witch of his dreams. Was it a bit short sighted? Sure. But he wasn’t left with many options at this point and this was as good a plan as any.
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“Please principessa, you know what my father’s like. And it would only be a few months.” Theo begged, following close behind you as you make your way through the labyrinth that is the Hogwarts library.
“I am not going to pretend to date you for a few months Theodore. Or at all. That’s actually insane. Besides, no one would believe it anyway. We’ve known each other for how long? No one is going to buy the idea of us just now deciding to go out. Especially not your father. Do you know how long my mother has been trying to set us up?” you sigh, plucking another book off the shelf.
You had known Theodore practically your whole life. The two of you had been best friends since before you could walk. Your earliest memories involved waddling around the gardens of his family’s manor as your mothers watched on in thrilled bliss. There was simply no way the two of you would be fooling anyone.
“Well that’s just it isn’t it? Father has been hounding me to court you for ages, he’ll be too relieved to care,” Theo replies, an air of desperation creeping into his voice.
"Yeah, And what do you suppose we'd tell them hmm?" You ask.
"Don't know. We wanted it to happen naturally or some other sappy story. They'll eat it up."
You give your friend a pointed look. This was not the first time he had presented you with a half-baked plan that was certain to go wrong at some point.
“You’re being so ridiculous right now Theodore, this easily makes it on the list of your top ten stupidest ideas.”
“You keep a list?”
“It’s alphabetized.”
Theo has the nerve to look offended.
“Please principessa? I know your family has been on you too. This will buy us both a little time at least,” Theo protests. "Just think, we tell them over winter break, string it along awhile, and then after we've gone our seperate ways we're just too broken hearted to even consider any other possibilities for the future."
In all fairness, the boy was right. Your family had been bothering you for months now, asking if you’d found a special someone. You'd known when Theodore's father began ramping up the pressure for him to find a match that your family wouldn't be far behind, but it was honestly starting to get to be a bit ridiculous. And exhausting.
"It's not even completely incomprehensible. We've been mistaken as a couple before." Theo continues to press.
You glare at your friend, eyes rolling at the mere memory.
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six months prior
It had been another one of your mother's usual, stuffy garden parties. The sun had been beating down on you all morning and all you really wanted to do was throw your blasted shoes across the lawn. Who thought it was a sensible idea to be out on the garden's cobblestone paths in scorching heat for hours at a time? This was not your idea of a good time.
"Principessa," Theodore greeted, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.
"Don't even start, Theodore," you grumbled, leaning into the boy. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and if my mother tries to make me join one more conversation about the Ministry or some such I'll set the whole garden on fire."
Theodore just laughed, pulled you closer.
"C'mon love. We can sneak off to the lake I reckon. Berkshire just arrived so the mums will all be too busy throwing him at the Greengrass sisters to notice."
Had you felt a bit bad leaving Enzo to the wolves? Sure. But still, you had let Theodore lead you down the path to the lake, collapsing onto the lawn sofa that was perched almost picturesquely on the patio overlooking the glassy water.
You had closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax into Theodore as his fingers combed methodically through your hair. You didn't know how long the both of you had been sitting there simply basking in each other's company when an excited gasp jolted you from your peaceful bliss.
"Oh! Oh my!" the shrill voice of one of your mother's airheaded socialites tittered. "I wasn't aware the both of you were courting! Oh your parents must be so pleased- what with your families being so close and all-"
"We're not courting." You interjected, holding your hand up to stop the women mid sentence.
She had stuttered awkwardly after that before finally shuffling off. Had you been a bit harsh? Perhaps. But you simply hadn't been in any sort of mood to deal with the notion of dating your best friend.
Theodore hadn't said a word, but you could feel him recoil ever so slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice if it hadn't been you. And things were a bit, strained, for the following days. If you could even call it that. And then things went back to normal as if nothing had happened.
You would have forgotten the whole thing, brushed it under the rug as something to laugh about in a few years, if it hadn't left a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.
You had never even allowed yourself to think that you could ever end up with your friend. Sure, years ago your mothers had shared the fantasy of the both of you ending up together one day. You were sure your mother was still convinced it might happen. But no. He would be auctioned off to the family of some wealthy heiress and you would be matched with some boy your parents deemed suitable. It was just how things worked.
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Your feared your father was wearing going to wear through the carpet at any moment with the way he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Your mother sat twiddling her fingers on the sofa across from you, watching your father in exasperation.
Theodore was quite pleased with himself. To be completely honest he really didn't think he'd get this far. But sitting smugly on the sofa of his father's office, arm wrapped securely around you as he faced not only his own father, but your parents as well, he felt on top of the world.
"Well? Is it true? Are you?" your mother asks, finally breaking the silence as she had apparently given up on your father being the first to speak.
Your father had stormed off to Mr. Nott's office before you could even let out a breath, and by the time you and Theodore had finally slunk into the room, your mother was already doing a piss poor job of hiding her excitement.
It had always been a dream of hers for the both of you to end up together one day. It was hardly a kept secret. Maybe Theodore had been right and their blind excitement would stop them from asking too many questions because this was truly horrific.
"Of course it's true! It better be! The way I found him all over y/n," your father interrupts.
Mr. Nott just gazes on, eyes seemingly boring into your soul as Theodore meets his father's stare with cool, nonchalance. The smug bastard.
"Oh it's all we ever hoped for!" Your mother gushes, eyes falling onto the portrait hanging on the wall of the late Mrs. Nott.
"Well. That settles it then. They'll begin courting. Or whatever it is they call it these days," Mr. Nott says finally. "But there will be no more of this, nonsense. Not under my roof."
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a few minutes earlier
"After further reassessment, this is the stupidest idea you've ever had," you hiss. Glaring at the brunette boy in front of you.
You were currently perched on one of the many desks lining the library walls of Nott Manor. Theodore was pressed up against the side, warm hands on your thighs holding you securely in place and sending shivers down your spine.
"Hush amore. How else will they be convinced we've been hiding a relationship, hmm?" He asks, slowly guiding one of your arms up to wrap around his neck.
"Oh I don't know. Suppose we just tell them? Ever think of that?"
"Yeah, and how would that go? Hey mum, I've been secretly seeing the son of your dead best friend who you've been trying to set me up with for ages. This is definitely not a distraction. Please believe us." Theo scoffs.
"I'm being serious," you respond, giving the boy a light whack on the shoulder. "When I agreed to the whole 'pretend to go out' bit, this is not what I had in mind."
"We've kissed before," Theo drawls, all nonchalance.
"You know that's not the same Theodore."
Before Theodore is able to respond, likely with another of his dry quips that you had grown to adore (not that you'd ever admit it), the door of the library swings open, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
You don't even get the chance to fully take in the reality of the situation before Theodore's lips are on yours. It's slow and soft and warm as you feel his thumb softly brushing circles on your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes you as you melt into the boy.
"What is the meaning of this?" Your father's cutting voice calls out, breaking you from your trance.
You jolt away from Theo, eyes snapping up to meet your father's, face flushed with embarrassment. Theo on the other hand looked quite self-satisfied. Oh you were going to kill him later.
"Both of you. Into the office. Now." Your father snaps out, looking like he was wishing he could obliviate himself in that moment.
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"How long are we going to keep this going?" you ask, eyes not quite meeting Theo's as you lean your head against him. It was another warm night in which you and Theodore had managed to sneak up to the astronomy tower.
Your visits to the astronomy tower had started back in fourth year. It seemed like forever ago. And now you looked forward to nothing as much as nights spent with Theodore gazing up at the sky. The nights were different now though, you supposed.
It had been what? Five months now? You were almost certain it was five months, but those months seemed to have flown by in bliss. You hadn't realized how easy it would be. You and Theodore seemed to have been carefully tip toeing the line between friendship and more for years. You simply hadn't put the pieces together. It had been a bit clunky at first sure. Awkward maybe. But this was perfect. Standing in Theodore's arms as the stars above you seemed to go on forever. Perfect.
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three-ish months prior
"Shut up. Shut. Up. You're joking," Daphne squeals, eyes locking onto your fingers which are tightly interlocked with Theo's as you enter your dorm room.
Something you seemed to have overlooked when agreeing to Theodore's dating scheme, was the fact that an integral part of the plan involved selling the lie to your closest friends.
It was much more difficult than you had anticipated.
You had spent the first initial month spending all your free time with Theodore, never really leaving his side. Apparently this didn't seem out of the ordinary. The flowers sent to your dorm didn't elicit a single reaction from your roommate, nor did Theodore's constant pet names. No, what really did it apparently, was the hand holding. Scandalous.
Your friends never failed to miss an opportunity to humble you.
"Took them long enough. Don't know why you're so shocked Daph," Mattheo replies dryly from his spot on the floor, papers scattered around him. He doesn’t even bother to look up.
"Well duh. We all knew they'd end up together eventually. Just didn't think they'd figure it out while we were still in school." Daph responds matter of factly. “Ugh. I owe Pansy 25 galleons now.” She groans, a frown appearing on her face.
"We can hear you, you know," Theo drawls, raising an eyebrow.
"Well it isn't as if the two of you have been subtle about it. Always holed up together in the library for hours at a time doing gods knows what."
"We study together," you reply, feeling the need to defend yourself.
"You’ve also attend every single ball together since, ever," Mattheo adds.
"Better that then go with whatever tossers our parents dig up."
"I've found the both of you asleep in Theodore's bed on more than one occasion."
"As friends."
"Right. You'd sleep together as friends, but drew the line at hand holding." Daphne says dryly. "You're both hopeless."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Y/n, I damn near saw you hex Theo's hand off in fifth year when he tried to hold your hand, and even that wasn't solid proof that you two weren't already going out." Daphne snorts. "Hopeless."
"C'mon Daph, let's leave the love birds to it then," Mattheo says, gathering his papers. "Make good choices. Don't do anything I'd do," he calls as the two of them make a quick exit.
As soon as the door slams shut, you turn to look at Theo as if to ask 'what on Earth was that about?'
“They make fair points,” he says with a shrug, pulling you onto the bed with him.
"We weren't being obvious about anything Theodore. There was nothing there to begin with." You reply, allowing him to pull you onto his chest.
You knew there hadn't been anything there before, or at least you thought there wasn't, because this was all very new. Sure before you might've fallen asleep in the same bed after staying up until 3 am studying for your charms exam, but you'd certainly never seen Theodore look at you like this before. And you'd certainly never felt his hand creep under your shirt to rub soft circles across your rib cage. You'd definitely never felt your heart try to beat out of your chest like this. Or maybe you had.
"Is it really so absurd to think we've always been so close?" Theo asks, eyes very clearly focused on your lips. Not that you noticed of course.
"Maybe not," you reply, letting your head fall to rest on the boy's chest.
This was nice you thought to yourself as Theo's lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
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"How long do you want to keep going?" Theo asks after a moment.
"Don't know," you reply, feeling his eyes on you as you continue gazing out at the sky in front of you.
"Another month?" Theo asks carefully, pulling you ever closer.
You can feel your heart begin to race at the idea of it all ending so soon. You shake your head.
"You want to end it sooner?" Theo asks, voice wavering ever so slightly.
You shake your head again. You hear Theodore's sharp breath as he realizes your implication and you feel yourself growing increasingly more nervous as the silence stretches on.
You'd really, truly never allowed yourself to consider the idea of ending up with Theo. You knew that simply wasn't how the world worked. And frankly the idea of rejection couldn't even be a possibility. You couldn't allow yourself to lose your best friend. Or maybe you could. This was all his idea to begin with after all.
"What if we just kept going?" You ask finally, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.
Theo's arms tear away from you as he turns you to face him, hand holding your chin firmly in place, forcing your eyes to meet.
"Don't play with me like this, principessa," he says, voice all seriousness as his eyes scan your face, searching for anything that might suggest you're joking with him.
"I'm not."
And just like that, Theo's lips are on yours once more. They seemed to find themselves there a lot lately, melting your mind to absolute mush as he pulled you closer. You could feel your back, now pressed up against one of the marble pillars of the tower as Theo's lips moved slowly from your lips to your jawline, and carefully down the side of your neck.
"You can say you love me now," He whispers into your ear, his warm breath giving you chills as his hands continue to wander.
"I love you," you gasp out.
"Sorry, who?" he pushes, leaving little pecks across your jawline once more.
"Theo. I love you, Theodore," You say finally, just as Theo presses another kiss to your lips.
"And I love you, amore."
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Did I start this well over a year ago? Yes I did, thank you for asking. Did I change the title three different times? Absolutely I did. Am I posting this before editing? Also yes. Cope.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 22 hours ago
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Woke up from the sweetest dream of eating ice cream with Jason in the middle of the night, both in our jammies hunched over a pint in opposite sides of the kitchen island and its just so special to not be doing this exact thing alone.
"There's something so sweet about loving and being loved. Knowing and being known. Especially by a man who makes every past moment of suffering so worth it if it's lead us to this." 🥺🥺
Late Night Desserts 
Pure Fluff ~1k words
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It's late, the kind of late that's so far into the night that you can start to call it early. Your kitchen is dark, lit only by the dim street lights and the occasional stray beams of moonlight that break the clouds hanging low over Gotham's sky. There's the sounds of cars driving by, the faint whirl of a helicopter flying overhead, but it's all drowned out by the quiet giggles bouncing off the walls of your apartment. 
"Why are you even whispering," you stumble out between hushed laughs, voice barely above a breath as you point your spoon at Jason, eyes narrowing in accusation.
He grins, mock offense dripping into his quiet tone, "I could ask you the same question, sweetheart." 
"I'm whispering because you're whispering," you bite back, gaze leaving him so you can dip your spoon into the pint of your favorite ice cream resting between you on the counter. 
Jason scoffs, all teasing and playing as he reaches over to knock his spoon against yours, digging into the frozen dessert for another taste, "I'm whispering because it's still dark outside, and the walls of your apartment are thinner than paper."
"That's not my fault," You pout, taking your own bite of the ice cream. Your eyes narrow, but there's no heat to the action, not when the moment feels as sweet as the dessert you're sharing.
"Didn't say it was, doll," he hums, catching you entirely off guard when he reaches over the kitchen island to swipe his thumb over the corner of your lip, collecting what remains of the ice cream on his finger. His gaze never leaves yours as he licks his thumb clean, smile never fading.
He seems intent on knocking your world off center for a second time, because he speaks again, an easy grin on his face, like his words have no consequence either way, "You could always move in with me. Then it wouldn't matter how loud we were at night. Opens all kinds of doors, ya know?"
You think you manage to keep the surprise off your face when you answer (you don't), "It would?"
"Sure," he hums, jabbing his spoon back into the cartoon, it's the only sign that he feels even slightly nervous over the question he poised, "We could cook after eight pm without your neighbors complaining, blast music in the morning, and, ya know, if we ever get the dog you've talked about, it would be nice to have thicker walls."
His words sweep you right off your feet, his easy answer, the slight tension in his shoulders, all point to one thing. He's thought about this. He's planned a future with you, even if it's just coming up with small, mundane reasons on why you should move to his apartment. 
The realization steals your breath away, and it's only when his face furrows and his eyes start to dart over your face, searching for any clues of how you feel, that you remember you have to respond. 
"That sounds nice. I'd like that, " You say, voice melting into a different kind of soft from your previous whispers. It's a soft that's fond, almost reverent in the face of his feelings for you, the cusp of something more you want to build with him. 
The tension drains from his body, and his smile returns to something bright, something real, "Good." Jason lifts his spoon back to his mouth, face thoughtful like he's mulling over his next words, "You could move in anytime, you know. If you wanted. Half your stuff is already there anyway."
The ice cream melting onto the counter doesn't matter anymore, and you drop your spoon, letting it clatter loudly to the granite surface. Jason only has enough time to look confused and vaguely alarmed by the noise before you round the island to get to his side.
He tries to play off his eagerness with a nonchalant shrug, but you see right through your boyfriend. And suddenly, the moment feels so big.
The feeling nearly bursts from your chest. The warm, fluttery love that's so pure and right in your soul that it's nearly overwhelming. The idea that every path you've ever walked has led you to him, and him to you. 
He opens his mouth to talk, and you steal whatever words he means to say with your tongue. The kiss is sweet, so, so sweet. Sweeter than the dessert you were sharing, sweeter than anything you could tell him, sweeter than all the emotions fluttering in your stomach over just how much he means to you. 
Jason kisses you back with a softness that speaks to all the adoration he feels for you, dropping his own spoon to cup your face, to wrap an arm around your waist to draw you closer.
You only pull away first so you can watch the way his eyes flutter open slowly, lingering in the ghost of your lips against his.
"What was that for," he asks, voice so breathless and dreamy it nearly brings you to your knees.
"Just wanted to," you hum out, pressing a kiss to his jaw, to his chin, to his cheek. It's not a lie, it just doesn't encompass all the warmth you feel in your heart, the goofy smile you can't wipe from your face.
His dumbstruck smile matches your own as he squeezes your waist, saying everything he needs to say back with a simple touch. You melt into arms, ice cream, and quiet whispers long forgotten.
But you don't need to explain, don't have to elaborate. Jason knows what you mean when you press another gentle kiss to his lips, he knows what you're trying to say when you tangle your finger in his hair and memorize the feel of his body pressing against yours.
He always seems to know what you can't find the words to say. 
It's just a moment, just a stolen minute of peace as dark creeps towards day, but it's yours. Yours and his. Another warm memory to write into your story, another step towards something that feels like forever. 
The moon lights up your kitchen as it breaks the clouds once again, and Jason chases your mouth for another head-spinning kiss, sealing the promise of words unsaid, emotions that are far bigger than can be spoken into the calm, quiet air of the night.
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blueinsunlight · 5 hours ago
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I have this one fic that's been a WIP for the last. Fuck uhh what are we at, like... 4 months? And the only reason I haven't posted it is because every couple days I randomly get 4k more words worth of ideas that I cannot immediately connect to anything else but it HAS to be part of this specific fic because of the timeline or whatever.
For a while I hated this thing because I just could not get to a point where I felt I could publish it. I couldn't make it make sense, I couldn't focus on the "right" details and there's still a massive hole in the middle of the story where I need to write like 10 scenes but I just haven't gotten around to it because I wanted to write 3 paragraphs of introspection about this little bird some guy made out of scrap metal. I don't think I've ever had more fun writing something. Maybe I'll finish it tomorrow, maybe I'll be stuck on this WIP til I'm 25. Who cares!
There's times when you wanna finish something and be proud of the product. There's times when the process just feels like a means to an end and that is 100% fine. That's not an inherently flawed idea.
The thing to remember is that creating art is meant to be fulfilling.
Pssst
Hey, are you an artist or writer with WIPs?
Come here... I got a secret for you pssst come ‘ere
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star-suh · 2 days ago
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Johnny, La Gente Está Muy Loca… WTF
Johnny Suh x Male Reader
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cw: protected sex to bareback (remember do NAWT use oil based lube when you're using a condom), some impregnation kink disguised as silly jokes 😭
an: this is the best title i could ever think of ngl, like this is peak star-suh idk.
yn was in line waiting for the doors to open so he can finally witness a party with DJ JohnnyBe, he heard that all his parties are fun.
when they opened yn went straight to the bar to order something to drink, while he was waiting for the show to start he made some friends her and there.
“ladies and gentlemen please give it up for our guest DJ JohnnyBe” screams and claps of excitement flooded the room when the dj appeared. “hello everyone, i'm glad to be here and i hope i could make this night unforgettable for all of you” he winked, put on his dark glasses and blasted his first set of songs. the bass sounds make the floor vibrate. the music was intoxicating, DJ JohnnyBe indeed knows how to lit a party. during one of his last sets johnny removed his glasses, his gaze was adjusting to the bright colored flashing lights when he saw yn in the crowd. the guy was happy having the time of his life, something that made johnny smile and caught his attention too.
“excuse me, i’m going to the bathroom” yn whispered to one of his new friends and went there. “it was a magnificent night guys, thank you for coming here but i have to go now” everyone awwed, disappointed, wanting more of him, “but don't worry, tye part continues with the next dj”, everyone screamed in euphoria while johnny left and went to the bathroom.
yn was washing his face when someone entered the bathroom, “hey you're the happy boy that was on the crowd” johnny said with a happy tone. yn was stunned seeing him that close, his mouth was agap, thinking it was a dream caused by all the drinks he had tonight he said “fuck, you're so hot”. johnny was taken aback by this but then smirked, “well thanks” he replies.
yn realized it's not a dream, dj johnny fucking be was right there in front of him. his face became red like a tomato. “i-i'm sorry i think i-i d-drank a lot to-tonight haha” his flustered ass tried to brush it off. johnny places both hands on each side of tn cornering him against a counter. “you look so cute when you're flustered” both males made eye contact, one’s eyes showing how shy he was while the other's were fierce, as if a hunter had just hunted his prey.
“what's wrong party boy. what happened to that “fuck you're so hot” earlier comment, hmm?” at this point yn didn't know what to say he just closed his eyes but opened them again when he felt something poking at his bulge. it was johnny’s bulge. “see how horny i am, right now?, you should take responsibility for it” the low tone of his voice sending yn already to cloud 9, he moaned johnny’s name.
“hmm what was that?” johnny asked, his breath tickling yn’s neck. his lips ghosting his skin. he was desperate to feel johnny, he wanted him to touch him, obliterate him, rearrange his insides. “i’ve never felt this horny before for someone” yn confessed, feeling even more shy. johnny grabbed him by his chin so he can look directly at his eyes, “me neither” he said kissing the flustered boy…
johnny guided yn towards a bathroom stall while still kissing him, his tongue wxploring the other's mouth. “just put it in, i prep myself at home” yn said in between moans. “naughty” johnny heaved. he pulls out a condom from his pocket, unwrapped it and rolled it down his big thick shaft.
“wait” yn stopped johnny from putting in, “use this” he handed johnny a little bottle of lube that one of his new friends, conveniently, gave it to him as a ‘gift’ so he can have lots of fun tonight.
johnny applied and large amount of it on the latex and on yn's hole, he slapped it a few times on the entrance and slowly put it in, inch by inch. the sex was rough, with johnny using his hands to muffle yn's moans, something that was unnecessary due to the excessive loud music outside in the club. there were times were johnny instead made yn suck his fingers as if it was his dick. every time the dj thrusted deep a bulge formed on yn's tummy, “joh-johnny you're very deep”.
yn was pressed against the stall door with his eyes rolled back, johnny was stimulating his prostate continuosly and in return he was gripping hard on johnny's meat, “you're choking my little budy down there” he put his hand on the bottom's head pushing it even more harder against the door. a smile appeared on yn's face, he loved how rough johnny was treating him. “more. more. i need moree~”.
if someone were in the bathroom right now they would think that some rabid dog would be locked in the bathroom, with the loud strange sounds and the banging against the cold metal walls. but in reality johnny was there thrashing yn around the stall, there was not a pose left for them to try or a surface that they haven't touched with their sweaty bodies. missionary, against the wall, riding, with one leg up, johnny fucking him while still grabbing him. yn's hole was already obliterated but eager to receive more.
the smell of sweat, liquor and spit make them both feel dizzy, lost in the pleasure they both craved. hickeys littered all over their collarbones, necks and torso, hell even johnny made some on yn's thigh.
the euphoric feeling made them lost trace of time and their surroundings so much that yn didn't notice that johhny's dick felt warmer and warmer by time, he could feel every vein brushing against his walls. the same happened to johnny, he felt yn's insides warmer and how they hugged his little buddy even more than before. ‘woah, condoms nowadays make you feel like you're not wearing one’ they both said it in their minds. they didn't realize the condom broke and with every thrust it slowly went down johnny’s shaft sitting in the base of it.
johnny hugged yn tightly to impale his meat even more deep and harder, “fuck yeah please like that” yn whimpered, his body squirming in pleasure. “keep doing it like that. just a bit more. yes just right there” yn said to johnny who complied to the bottom’s demands. yn came, his torso being painted in white. his body spasm with every spurt of it. he was happy, he hasn't felt this way in years, this might be the best sex of his life.
“fuck i'm gonna cum” johnny grunted, he wanted to came on yn's face but he didn't wanted to stop feeling the warm insides of the guy so ge decided to just came inside the condom. little did he knew that he was, in fact, covering those insides with his white seed. “how does it feel to have a man's seed deep inside your hole?” johnny asked nibbling on yn's neck. “it feels sticky and so wet” yn slurred, coming back from his high.
the realization hit them both right there, “what do you mean sticky and wet?” johnny looked down seeing how the broken piece of latex was on the base of his shaft while the rest of it was inside of the other, bareback. “oh god i just bred you”, “oh my god you just breed me”, johnny and yn exclaimed in unison…
they both get out of the stall, yn walked awkwardly after all his hole suffered a lot tonight. staring at themselves in the mirror with a dumbfounded expression while fixing their looks and disheveled hair. “why are we acting as if you're gonna get pregnant” johnny joked, trying to lighten the awkward atmosphere.
“johnny, it … it was the first time someone came inside me” yn looked down feeling embarrassed but once again johnny grabbed his chin to make eye contact with him “then i guess i have to take responsibility for that baby on there” he caressed yn’s stomach. they looked at each other and then exploded in laugh, “dumbass” yn blurted out hitting johnny's shoulder lightly.
“you're way cool than it thought” yn confesses “and so wild in sex, my back side hurts a bit”.
“i also think you're cool” johnny replied politely too, “if you want, come to my hotel room. i know a home remedy to ease that pain” he gripped one of his ass cheeks, “the night is still young” he wiggled his eyebrows.
yn caught what he meant and said “oh yes of course, i would like to try it. besides i kinda want other of your babies inside me”. johnny kissed him in the lips and then in the forehead, “let's make a football team then”. they left the bathroom straight to the hotel room to chase that euphoric feeling again.
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revelboo · 3 days ago
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omg, your stories are so good!! Really love that you write for characters I don't usually get to see, like waspinator, the insecticons, etc. Plus you also got me interested in Sunstorm, Which is surprising cause I didn't used to give him a second thought, before. Now I'm curious about where that story is going. Can't wait to see what you do in the future!
You guys have challenged me to write for a lot of characters I’d never written before and I love it
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Where I Belong Pt 12
Bluestreak x Reader
• Waking up tangled in someone else, it takes a moment to remember that Blue had never mass shifted back after telling you all of it. He’d just wrapped himself around you, grieving until he’d finally gone into recharge still clinging to you like you’re his security blanket. Now his face is jammed against your neck, one of the points of his chevron digging uncomfortably into your cheek and his knee is between your thighs, arms wrapped around you. And he’s still out, you can feel him venting against you and you don’t have the heart to wake him. Tipping your head back to try and avoid getting poked by his chevron, you listen to the hum of his internal systems.
• There’s a soft hand on his helm, arms holding him and he curls tighter against that warmth and safety. Slowly coming out of recharge without that hum of terror chasing him into alertness. Without the nightmares. “Blue, honey, I can’t breathe,” you say and he’s fully online. Head lifting, he realizes he’s wrapped around you and he awkwardly scoots back. Forcing himself to stop smothering you and to put some distance between you both when he just wants to bury his face back against you. Feel those soft hands on him telling him that he’s okay. Reassuring him. “Sleep okay?” You ask him, somehow not annoyed with him when you should be. Have every right to be.
• “Sorry. I guess I got a little clingy there.” He can’t even look you in the eye right now, too embarrassed about needing someone to hold him. Like there’s something wrong with him for it. And you wiggle closer, resting your cheek on his chassis. See his arm lift, hand hovering but not touching and you grab his wrist and firmly drag his arm down to drape over you. “You don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice small. Like he thinks he’s bothering you and it makes you more determined to stay right where you are.
• “What am I doing? You’re warm and it’s freezing in here,” you reply, relaxing against him with a yawn. Pretending that you’re not trying to comfort him, trying to help. Servos hesitantly playing with your hair, he forces himself to relax. Willing to play along if he can feel your heart beating against him, grounding him in the reality that he’s not alone anymore. Doesn’t expect you to stay. No one ever does, but wants to hang on to this feeling until you get tired with him. Until he becomes too much of a burden.
• “Thank you,” he whispers and that almost breaks your heart. Like the fact that anyone might just actually want to reach out to him, to stay beside him is unthinkable to him. Makes you want to hunt down whoever put that thought into his head and beat some sense into them. Because this sweet bot is beginning to mean the world to you and you’re determined to protect him at any cost.
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bananayuyu · 3 days ago
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just friends (2) - back to the beginning
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pairing: san x f reader
genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff
word count: 12.6k
summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?
warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral, cum eating
a/n: i have become completely obsessed with these two. I've mapped out 10 parts for this series (help me), please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the rest <33 new parts won't be coming out on any certain schedule as I have many other writing projects I'm working on, but I will for sure finish his series within the year. I'm too obsessed not to. also the argument at the end of this part is pretty nasty so please proceed with caution <3
<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3
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One Year Ago
"Titi, it's 4:15, get your ass up!" you called from her desk, squinting at your eyes in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your dark, heavy face of makeup.
"I know, sorry," she grumbled from her bed, slowly pushing off her comforter. "Winter makes me so sleepy," she yawned, stretching as long as she couch reach, her feet falling off the side of her mattress.
"You just love being late, I think," you joked, slapping closed the lid of your highlighter, putting the brush you used back into the drawer it came from.
"You'd think I do, with how often I am," she laughed, another yawn escaping her lips, her palms rubbing circles over her eyes.
"I'm leaving without you if you're running late, just so you know," you responded, stepping up off her desk chair and over to your trusty bag, double checking you had your costume for tonight, your phone, your keys, wallet, and makeup bag.
"I'm coming, just give me a second," she muttered, pushing herself up dramatically, a deep sigh wracking through her. "I didn't get to sleep till like ten in the morning."
"What were y'all doing?" you asked, chuckling, zipping closed your bag with a satisfying sound, everything packed just right for the day ahead.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed, waggling her eyebrows at you.
"You're a couple of fucking rabbits, you two," you shot back, staring at the disheveled state of your best friend. She tipped her head back, laughing hard, that bright full smile showing across her beautiful face. She'd been smiling a lot like that lately, ever since her and her girlfriend had made things official, ever since they'd decided to move in together.
"I'm sorry, I won't talk about it so much if it's annoying," she said, finally standing herself up and shlepping off her pajamas.
"Don't stop, it's very adorable," you responded. "Why would it be annoying?"
"Just cause, you know, your last situation was such a disappointment. I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in," she said, grabbing for a pair of black leggings and pink sweater in the pile of clothes on the floor.
"My last, what, three situations, actually?" you said, trying to remember each of the ridiculous members of the cast of dates you'd been on last year.
"Dating sucks," she said, pulling her leggings on, stumbling a bit.
"Not for you, it doesn't," you responded, crossing your arms.
"Well, not now, but it did for my whole life up until this point," she said.
"Ah, turned twenty-two and now you have it figured out?" you joked, rolling your eyes.
"Hey, don't get snippy with me missy," she pouted, pulling the sweater over her head.
"Sorry, you know I just like arguing for no reason," you sighed, chuckling a bit.
"I need to find you someone who likes it just as much as you do," she joked back, grabbing her phone off it's charger.
"But who's not actually an asshole?" you said.
"Yeah, exactly," she laughed, shooting off a quick text. "Shit, 4:20," she said, stuffing her phone into her own huge bag, not bothering to check it's contents like you just did.
"Okay, we're going now," you said, walking out into her living room, heading straight for the front door.
"Wait, just let me make a cup of coffee!" she called to you, stumbling behind.
"They have coffee where we work, you know," you remarked, looking back at her over your shoulder.
"Oh my god, you love saying shit like that," she rolled her eyes, following close behind you.
"I'm not wrong," you said as you opened the front door, stepping out into the hall.
"I just wanted my pretty mug," she sighed, stepping out after you.
"Then go grab it," you said, holding the door open.
"I can do that? Make coffee into a mug I've brought in?" she asked.
"I don't see why not," you responded, shrugging your shoulders.
"Okay, if I get in trouble I'm blaming you," she said, running back in to grab her favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink.
"Fine, fine," you shook your head, closing the door once she'd come out again.
As soon as you exited the building you realized you'd worn too much; it might be January still, but it was hardly cold at all, this dense desert city holding all the heat the rest of the world must be craving.
"Can we slow down?" Tina asked from beside you, your shoulders bumping as you stepped around a huge group standing on the sidewalk outside of an Italian restaurant, chatter filling the air.
"I don't wanna be late," you answered, keeping your pace as it was.
"Dude, you're so wound up," she said, snaking her hand through your upper arm, genuinely worried you'll start sprinting off if she didn't ground you somehow.
"Sorry, I know," you said, linking your arm around her's. "I'm good, I swear. Just stressed about my manuscript submission," you said, flashing her a wary smile.
"They said they'd get back to you by next week, right?" she asked, gently pulling on you to help you avoid a dark spot of something sticky on the sidewalk.
"Yeah, next week," you sighed, letting out a disgruntled noise.
"Okay, so, you just gotta wait. You did all that work last year finishing that play, you should let yourself have some fun for a few weeks. We should all go out after work today, we haven't done that in forever," she said, the two of you snaking around a line of people standing outside the old movie theater that sat just a block from your place of work.
"Doesn't Maya work Sunday mornings?" you asked, pulling up at the corner to wait for the light to change.
"Usually, but not this week. She's on a later shift today so they gave her tomorrow off," she answered you, eyes darting around at the cacophony of sounds streaming through the streets from every direction.
"Oh, that's nice," you said, and Tina started laughing, squeezing onto your arm. "Shit sorry, did that sound sarcastic?"
"It's so funny when your tone goes all flat like that," she said beside you, a genuine smile on her face. "Seriously though, there probably won't be a Saturday night where she can come out with us for a very long time. We should do it. Maybe we can even convince Sasha and Bibi to come too."
"I'll think about it," you said as the light changed, the two of you stepping down onto the asphalt in front of you. A car honked loudly from your left, wanting to turn down the street you were walking across, and you both shot the driver identical looks of confusion over your shoulders. Only another minute and you were pushing through the side door of the bar, stepping right into the back of the kitchen and waving hi to the cooks on the line. The hallway to the dressing room was already uncomfortably hot; your light layers were far too much now, so you stripped them off quickly, shoving everything into your locker and checking your phone. You weren't late, after all. Thankfully, because you were on early tonight, second in the program, and you only had time to change into your costume and warm up a bit before Ilya was calling your name and pushing you down to the left wing of the stage.
It was a fairly normal night, by all accounts. You'd been working at the bar for nearly two years by then, one of the longer standing performers. There was high turnover in the staff, as was typical in a bar, but especially amongst the performers, who'd often find sudden success in movies or TV, or decide that pursuing this was just not for them anymore. Ages varied wildly; your boss Julie was not one to obsess over youth, or any other conventional markers of beauty. All she cared about was talent; she wanted to create the most interesting, jaw dropping, entertaining show this whole city had to offer, and there was no doubt she had succeeded. Every kind of person could be found working here; sometimes servers would take on a performing shift or two, and sometimes the opposite. It wasn't rare for you to be asked to take drinks to a certain table, your costume still on, sometimes staying in character as you placed them down in front of wonder-filled eyes. You all were expected to help each other out; once or twice you'd even been requested in the kitchen or behind the bar, when there'd been one too many sudden call outs.
It was a classy establishment. Doors opened at 4:30, the show promptly starting at 5pm; it ended at midnight sharp, the bar closing only half an hour later. It was the earliest place to close on the block, only open four days a week, Wednesday night through Saturday night. It was a place people went to pregame, to start their evening with a bang, or a place people went to see a great show before heading back home at a reasonable hour. There was a drinks limit; you all could deny a customer another if they were acting unruly, your security team inconspicuous under the dark shadowy light inside, but always watching. The food served was regular bar fare: tacos, wings, pizza, burgers, but it was high quality, so good that some people came frequently just for their favorite menu item. The place was known for its drinks, too, having hoards of non alcohol options that put every other bar's mocktail lists to shame. It was known for its organized and sparkly atmosphere, known as a reliable place to have a good ass night. The patronage was a mixed bag, but the place wasn't cheap; it tended to skew a bit older, a bit more mature. You didn't hate that; it meant the behavior was generally predictable, even if you didn't exactly fit in amongst the crowd cheering you on.
Halfway through the night you plopped down on your stool in the dressing room, scrubbing free the bits of eyeliner that had smudged below your eye during your first two solo performances of the night.
"Hey girl, sorry to bug, do you have any lashes I could borrow?" Sasha came running in, a slightly panicked look on her face.
"I should, let me see what I have," you said, setting your makeup wipe on your bare thigh and zipping open your bag.
"I'm so sorry to ask, but I literally don't have any with me," she sighed, coming to sit beside you. "My right one fell off on stage and I couldn't find it for the life of me. I was trying to look for it without making it obvious," she said, a nervy chuckle escaping her.
"No worries, here, look through there. Take whatever you need," you said, handing her the small box you kept your old and new lashes in.
"Oh darling, you're a lifesaver," she sighed, snapping it open and rifling through, finding the size she needed. She still had some of that newbie air about her, not six weeks into working with you. But already she had established herself as irreplaceable; by then she emceed almost every night she worked, and thank god for that, as none of the rest of you had any talent or desire for it. Julie tended to do it, if no one else was available, but having a beautiful drag queen host the evening, one who also performed in the show, was a much better choice in every way.
"A group of businessmen just walked in and took table four, I'm hoping one of them is interesting in all this," she said, leaning forward to place the replacement lash on her right eyelid.
"I'm sure one will be, Sash, you're fucking gorgeous," you said, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from your face and giggling.
"Oh sweetheart, you flatter me," she drawled, looking over her face in the mirror. "Do you think those straight-" she lifted her hands, making air quotes, "men can tell I'm not a woman in all the typical ways?"
"Girl, I wasn't even sure the first time I saw you. Your makeup skills are unmatched," you said, chuckling at her.
"Oh stop it," she joked, shaking her head at you. "I hope my hosting skills are half as good," she sighed, finally placing the lash on her eye just right and batting her hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to get the glue to dry quickly.
"Sasha, are you kidding? You put the rest of us to shame. You should have seen me the one night Julie made my try it out," you laughed, tossing your used makeup wipe in the waste basket beside you.
"I'm sure it was just fine, you little genius," she responded, blinking her eye open and closed a few times. "Sorry to cut this short, but I should probably get out there again."
"Go get 'em, girl," you responded, shooting a playful wink her way.
"Thank you again, darling," she said as she walked past, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You squeezed it briefly; "of course," you said. Then her heels were clacking past you, and soon the room filled with noise as nearly every performer on your cast came in to start their makeup, all of you preparing for the big group number of the evening.
You'd discovered the song, randomly, a few months back. The title, Kalyna, and the album art had intrigued you; after your first listen you were imaging the choreography immediately, turning on your phone to record the sudden ideas flooding your brain. You'd never choreographed a number for the bar, but you knew Julie would be open to it if you pitched it correctly. Three weeks later and you were teaching your coworkers the choreography, chaotic short lessons between everyone's normal performances, all of them picking it up lightning quick. It was an instant hit with your audiences, the night it debuted, and had been kept in the rotation longer than most of the other numbers ever were.
That night the air was buzzing in the dressing room; everyone looked sharp and stunning in their body suits, hair slicked back and pulled tight into buns. The makeup was angular; this number was meant to evoke a bit of tension, maybe even some fear in the audience. But it also showed the strength of the team, the strength of community, and the physical strength of each of you. It was your absolute favorite number that winter; you looked forward to it every night you worked, proud to know you'd created something that stuck so fondly in the minds of the people who watched.
As you hit the stage, you saw immediately what Sasha had just mentioned. Table four, which sat just off the right side of the stage, was cramped full of men in suits, every single one sharp and fitted and so obviously expensive. There was every type of man you could imagine at the table; you spotted immediately the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Sasha's dream come to life. And when she led the first eight counts towards the front of the stage, you saw his eyes take in everything, her long legs, her face, her deep rich eyes he seemed lost in. You nearly broke character; so rare was is that people in here flirted with the performers, oddly enough, and normally you were very thankful for that. It was all a part of the classy environment your boss had curated, and it meant you felt safe. But you couldn't deny how giddy it made you to see this playing out in front of you, mere feet from where you danced.
You danced the rest of the number focused, determined not to drop your professionalism for too long, the crowd erupting in cheer as you all finished. Clasping hands down the line, you took one giant bow, spinning and running off stage as the number ended.
"Lina needs help y'all!" Ilya called as you ran through the wings, and immediately you headed down the short hallway to the back of the bar, bursting through to find her. Stacked along the bar were multiple trays of drinks; a line was forming, and your head bartender looked the tiniest bit stressed. Sweat dripped form her brow, and she wiped it away quickly with her hand, punching something into the computer before whipping around to take another order.
"Oh, good, please take those out!" she said when she saw you and Tina, pointing to the trays of drinks in front of you. "The beers are for table four, the cocktails table seven!"
In an instant you grabbed the tray in front of you, sliding past Tina as carefully and quickly as possible. This was sometimes your favorite moments of the evening, when in the adrenaline of post-performance you had to run out drinks to an excited table, who'd marvel over your performance and ask you every question they could think of. As you started weaving through the room, several iterations of 'great job!' and 'amazing, just amazing!' were thrown your way, making your smile so wide it nearly stretched off your face. You barely payed attention to the drinks in your hand, only to make sure they didn't spill, as you nodded in thanks to the compliments, smiling at the half-lit faces around you.
It wasn't until you stopped, stood close to the wall to let another server past, that you realized which tray you'd grabbed. Both table four and seven sat on the far side of the room opposite the bar, and in the chaos of the moment you'd just headed this way, not bothering to actually take note. Now, you did; eight beers sat on the tray balanced on your hand, all identical dark ales. You shot a look to your side at Tina's tray, littered with pink and blue and clear cocktails, fun decorations sticking out the top of them all. Your's was meant for table four, for those businessmen Sasha had spotted, the one's you'd just performed mere feet from.
It shouldn't have worried you, but you couldn't help remembering it now. The only time you'd felt uncomfortable at work had been when serving a giant table full of just men, when one of them had said things severely over the line with you, just to make his friends laugh. It'd only ever happened that once, but the feeling was humiliating enough to have stuck with you, your mind whirring a bit as you made you way towards the crowded table. You decided you'd set the tray down by the man eyeing Sasha; maybe you could subtly hint at her interest, though you had no idea what you'd say. But as soon as you entered their proximity and reached between two of them to set down the tray, a man across the table spoke to you.
"I love that song!" he said, and you looked up to find a sweet, bright smile and deep dimples staring back at you.
"Oh, thank you!" you replied, giving him a genuine smile back, your mind immediately put at ease. You started placing the beers around, one in front of each man, careful to avoid the plates of food already littering the table.
"Do you know the significance of the Kalyna plant in Ukraine?" the same man asked, and your head snapped to him, eyes slightly wide.
"Yeah, that's why I chose to make that number," you said before you could think, so shocked that someone here knew anything about the song you'd spent long hours researching months ago.
"You choreographed that?" he asked, his eyes going wide a bit too.
"Oh, yeah," you said, slightly embarrassed that you'd just openly admitted that. It wasn't something you tended to do, when making light chatter with customers. You grabbed the last beer, which was for him, and made your way around the table to set it down in front of him. "It's just such a great song, easy to choreograph to," you added, trying to make yourself sound less conceited, less interested in talking about yourself.
"It is great, haven't heard it in years," he responded, taking the beer from your hand as you moved to set it down.
"You've heard it before?" you asked, genuine shock in your tone. The band was not one very popular here; not a single person you knew had heard of them, and no one in the months you'd been performing it had mentioned knowing anything about the song.
"Yeah, my freshman roommate in college was from Ukraine and he played a lot of their music. He's a drag queen, I would go to his shows a lot. He actually did a routine to that song, too, for a while," he responded, turning in his seat a bit to better face you. By this point the rest of the table had fallen into another conversation; it seemed none of the rest of them had heard of the song before, or cared to learn much about it. Kind of made them seem like shitty friends, to you. But you were thankful for it, because all of the sudden it felt like you and this gorgeous man were all alone, your back against the west wall of the seating area, Sasha's voice booming through the speakers around you.
"Next time he's visiting I'll be sure to take him here, he'd love it," he added, taking a swig of his beer.
"Well we might not be performing that number anymore, depending on when he's coming. Our numbers are put on a rotation, and this one's overstayed it's welcome already. Though it's still quite popular, we might be able to perform it a while longer," you said, words coming easily, the normal walls you kept high when talking to customers nowhere to be found.
"That's too bad, I hope you get to keep it for a while. It's fucking great, you're a real genius," he said, looking up at you again with those perfect dimples.
"Thanks," you said, blushing, the smirk he was sending your way bringing sudden heat to your face. You'd had time now to take him in; his hair was black, short at the sides and longer on top, his suit black to match it. His skin was honey, smooth as can be, and his face was pure perfection, pouty lips and a perfect nose, a strong jaw, strong eyebrows. He was very masculine, but very pretty too, so stunning you couldn't believe your eyes. And his wire framed glasses held his look together perfectly; he looked sharp, smart, and confident. He looked the way you were pretty sure every man wished he looked in a suit.
"I don't usually say stuff like this, but, when are you free tonight? We're all headed to a huge party up in the East Heights after this, if you'd like to come. There's gonna be an open bar, a pool, it's supposed to be pretty crazy," he said, taking another quick sip of his beer, his face pure and calm as he said it.
'I don't usually say stuff like this' my ass, you thought. The words had flown off his tongue too easily for that to be believable. But it was working on you, his confidence. You'd experienced too many instances of vague flirting, of indirectness, of shaky voices and shakier hands. You'd dreamt of a moment like this, when someone saw you and liked what they saw, liked it enough to ask you out then and there with no hesitation.
"Uh, I get off at 12:30, when the bar closes," you answered him, words falling out of your mouth without intention. "I- uh- I'll need to think about it though. I wouldn't be comfortable coming by myself, would I be able to bring some friends?"
"Yeah, bring whoever you'd like. It's a big event, a few extra bodies should be no big deal," he responded, smirk turning to a full on smile. His teeth were perfect, god he was perfect, and you got lost in his face for a few seconds, resting your hip against the wall behind you, your lower lip grasped between your teeth.
"I'm San, by the way," he said, reaching out his free hand in your direction.
"Oh, yeah, I'm y/n," you replied, placing your hand in his. His handshake was strong, hand warm around yours, your fingers nearly disappearing in his palm.
"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding onto your hand for a second longer than needed, gently releasing it and looking you straight in the eyes.
"Nice to meet you too," you said awkwardly, eyes darting around the room. "I should probably get back to work, it was nice chatting with you," you said, finally walking around the table to grab the tray and bring it back to the bar.
"We'll be here till closing, so just let me know then if you'd like to come," he said, nodding in your direction as you started to turn.
"Okay, thanks," you said, smiling over your shoulder, before walking off hurriedly between tables, suddenly worried sick that you'd be in trouble for talking to him for too long.
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"Titi, you still wanna go out tonight?" you asked as you rushed back into the locker room, two slices of sweet bread you stole from the kitchen in your hands.
"Yeah, you actually wanna?" she said excitedly, reaching forward to grab one of them from you.
"I just got invited to a party in the Easy Heights," you said, a bewildered look gracing your features.
"Hello? What?" she responded, her mouth open in a comical O.
"I don't even know, but yeah, apparently some big party is happening at a house up there? He said it will have an open bar and pool?" you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the words coming out of you.
"Who said this?" she asked, mouth full as she chowed down.
"He said his name is San, he's in that group at table four," you responded.
"Oh my god, Sasha was just telling me she was making eyes at one of those men," Tina laughed, a hand coming to your shoulder.
"Yeah, I saw that while we were performing Kalyna," you said, giggling too.
"You sure you wanna go to an East Heights party? There's definitely gonna be like coke and shit, probably worse. It might be crazy," she said, head tilting to the side.
"If it's awful we can just leave, but I kinda feel like going. I doubt we'll ever be invited to one of those again," you laughed, giving her an assured smile. "I kind of want to see what tomfoolery those rich assholes get up to."
"So this isn't about hanging out with that man?" she asked.
"He seems cool, but I think he might be gay," you said to her, crossing your arms.
"Um, why?"
"He said his roommate in college was a drag queen, and that he went to his shows a lot. And he talked to me way too confidently to be into me. If he's not gay, then he's definitely not interested," you said, shrugging.
"Babe, he invited you to a party with him, barely knowing you. He definitely finds you attractive," she said, giving you that look she does when she thinks you're being just a bit dumb.
"Okay, but, well-" you cut yourself off, holding your hands out in a gesture of pity. You were dumb when it came to this relationship stuff, downright stupid. You knew that, as frustrating as it was. You wanted to be confident in your suspicion he was into you, but you'd been wrong enough times when you were younger about this sort of thing to assume it now. You'd been made fun of countlessly in high school, person after person laughing at the mere thought that they'd be into you. You were always baffled; you'd been told by some other person that this person had a crush on you, and were only asking them about it because of that information. They were pranks, and it took you embarrassingly long to figure that out. You understood that now, you recognized it had just been childish bullying; but still, even years later, you doubted any instance of even a suggestion that someone found you attractive.
You were different back then; you'd changed so much in the few years you'd lived away from home. But still, you doubted yourself. Maybe you had a complex about being undesirable, but who didn't? And frankly, when you looked around the world, it seemed like more of the "ugly" people had partners than not. It must be more about personality, you reasoned, which made your undesirability all the more painful. A silly, sick side of you began to feel attached to being single, began to feel better than other people for it, even your ride or die perfect friend standing in front of you. You didn't need romantic love like everyone else did, you decided; you had your art to give you passion, your friends to give you companionship. And you could physically satisfy yourself just fine. It was all projection; it was how you coped. How else could you deal with the pain of never being loved, lusted after, wanted the way all of your friends had since puberty?
But even as attached to your single identity as you were, you'd perused the apps last year, a tiny buried part of you wishing and hoping that there was someone out there for you, perfect in every way. It had been a bust, as expected. You felt like a fool for even trying. You had hoped that it would give you at least a little self-esteem, even if no relationship came of it. But it had only driven that painful truth of your undesirable personality deeper into your heart, cracking it further.
"I don't even want a relationship right now, Ti, I've said that for like the past three months," you said, pulling your hands back to your chest. You felt your heart thumping there, trying desperately to come alive despite the year of terror you'd put it through.
"It doesn't have to be a relationship, you could just hook up with him, you know, have a little fun," she answered you, grabbing your hands in hers. "Let's go, let's have some fun. Just relax, spend the evening enjoying ourselves." You hadn't seen her so excited all winter; her moods were severely affected by this season, and it always felt like a part of her left you for the cold months. It made a complex mix of sadness and excitement swirl through you, staring back at her perfect face. There was no way you'd be saying no to her now, despite anything.
"Okay, fine," you sighed, pulling her into a tight hug.
It took little convincing for Sasha and Bibi to join you, and soon the four of you plus Maya were standing on the sidewalk outside, stuck like a barnacle to the side of San's huge group. You were all waiting on two limos, according to him; when he's said this the five of you looked between yourselves with huge wide eyes, grabbing each other's arms and trying desperately not to laugh.
"You realize none of us have ever been to the East Heights, right?" you said to him, the soft arm of his suit jacket brushing up against the exposed skin of your own upper arm.
"That's fine, I've only been once. It's nothing that crazy, the houses are just big," he said, looking down at you, his shoulders intimidatingly broad now that he was standing beside you.
"I thought you said this party is gonna be crazy though," you replied, squinting your eyes playfully.
"Well, it's possible. I don't really know," he responded.
"So you just said that to say it earlier?" you questioned him, head cocked to the side.
"I was trying to make my offer sound enticing," he replied, looking you up and down, that smirk back on his face.
"So you lied to me?" you shot back.
"Hey, like I said, I don't know much about this thing, it could very well be crazy," he responded, holding up his hands in surrender.
"Wow, what have I gotten us into," you said, turning to the group, all of whom were suppressing their laughter at the interaction unfolding in front of them.
"The best night of your life," he answered, nudging your shoulder in a way that almost could have been accidental, making your eyes snap back to his again.
"I hope that wasn't a lie," you said, eyeing him sharply.
"I'll make sure of it," he shot back, one eyebrow raised slightly.
A titter sounded behind you, Tina unable to keep her composure at the ridiculous bickering unfurling between you. Your eyes were locked on each other, faces closer than either of you realized. It was so damn obvious to all of your friends, then, what was about to happen. The two of you couldn't hide it for a second, how affect you were. You were still locked in eye contact when the first limo pulled up, the rest of San's group filing in, waving him goodbye.
"You can go with your friends if you'd like," you said as he closed the door, stepping back.
"Oh they're not really my friends, just guys I know through work. This whole thing tonight is a networking opportunity, what fun," he joked sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Oh wow," you said, eyes glued to the limo as it pulled away. "People network at one in the morning?"
"Us tech bros do I guess, we just love it," he said, laughing sarcastically again. "I don't really like this stuff, but my manager is making me go. He gave me Monday off, so, I can't really complain."
"Wow, you have like a normal job," you said, laughing.
"And you don't?" he asked.
"I just mean, you work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I literally don't know a single other person who does. My mom is a doula, and my twin sister is a nurse, and my dad has early-onset Parkinson's so he's been on disability almost my whole life. And the rest of my friends work here, or work at other bars or restaurants around here. Even my best friend from high school works in a library at her university, but she works weekends and nights."
It all came stumbling out of you so fast, your hand shot up to your mouth.
"Sorry, that was crazy. Just forget all that shit about my dad..." you trailed off, eyes wide with worry as they met his.
"What shit about your dad?" he answered, and your expression immediately changed to one of relief, one of laughter. Just then the second limo pulled up to the curb, and the five of you excitedly gathered by the door, San opening it for you.
"Ladies," he said, bowing his head slightly and beckoning you all to step inside.
"None of us have ever been in a limo either," you told him, chuckling as your friends excitedly squealed while carefully entering the sleek black car.
"Uh, I have, speak for yourself miss thing," Bibi said as she crouched down, shooting you a look over her shoulder.
"Well damn, I guess one of us has," you said to San as you finally stepped inside, his body following quickly after you, rich laughter ringing in your ear.
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San, it turned out, was most definitely not gay. Which of course, deep down, you'd already known. You'd known it from the moment he asked you to go to that party with him, from the moment he smirked and your body sizzled under his glare. But he was so different from anyone you'd dated before; too kind, too upfront, too knowledgeable about musicals and theater and all the things you loved so very much. It almost pained you to find out he'd been studying theater in college before switching to computer science. That was why he'd been paired with his freshman roommate; at the time, they'd had the same major. That roommate, Antin, became one of his best friends; the two bonded over coming from overseas, the pressure their parents put on them even thousands of miles away. It was so sweet, so charming, and in the two hours you spent at that raucous party, you learned what seemed like all there was to know about him.
He was too perfect; it was too easy to say yes when he'd asked if you wanted to see his apartment, too easy to bid your friends goodnight as your Uber pulled up in front of their places. You thought of nothing but the hunk beside you, about what he'd look like with that suit strewn on the ground. You tried not to jump his bones the second you were alone, but damn was it hard; as soon as you arrived he'd taken your purse, and placed it in the front closet of his apartment. His apartment was huge, his front closet bigger than the bathroom you shared with three other roommates; it was fancy too, well kept, stacks of books and DVDs in the living room, only two dirty dishes in the bottom of his kitchen sink.
It was all simply too good to be true, and in that moment nothing felt real. You were present, sure, but you felt like you'd been knocked into an alternative timeline, getting to live out the life of someone far better than you, who deserved all this.
"Aren't you hot in that suit?" you asked him, your loose minidress hanging free, your body unburdened with extra fabric. You always kept a few random clothes at work in case you needed to change suddenly, and even though it was the last day of January, this tiny dress had been a great option. Outside you'd thrown a large old flannel of your dad's over it, but at the party you'd tied it around your waist, the mass of bodies creating more heat than you could bear.
"Yeah, I was sweating all night," he laughed, slowly and methodically pulling off his suit jacket, finally revealing the shape of his shoulders to you. Under his white button-up they bulged; you did all you could to stop yourself from just staring, especially as he loosened his tie and finally pulled from his head, setting it down on the small table just inside his front door.
"You can put your shoes in there, if you'd like. Oh and your shirt, here, let me hang it up," he said, reaching for the flannel still tied around your waist. His touch was electric as soon as his hands made contact; even through the material of your dress you felt the spark, your body shivering. It only lasted a second, his nature too respectful to make anything more of a moment like that, especially after what you'd said at the party to him not twenty minutes ago. You wished you could have frozen time, wished every little detail of this night could be burned into your memory forever. It would be hard to believe then that you'd forget a lot of it in just a year, that somehow so much would happen that this one night would come to feel almost insignificant.
"Can I make you some hot cocoa, or tea, coffee?" he asked as he walked towards his kitchen, pouring you both glasses of water.
"Some herbal tea sounds nice, if you have any," you answered, and he opened his pantry to reveal a small collection. You picked out the lavender mix that sounded refreshing, placing the purple tea bag in a black mug he'd set down on the counter. As he set his tea kettle to boil, you hopped up on the counter beside him, bare feet swinging in air.
"So, you think that was the best night of my life?" you quipped, looking sideways at him as he set the kettle to temperature.
"Night's not over," he responded, eyebrows flicking up in amusement.
You were squirming under his gaze, your face now level with his. His shirt and pants fit him immaculately; you were so obviously ogling him, your thighs rubbing together as you did, your eyelids heavy with lust. He could feel it pouring off of you, but he kept replaying what you'd said, and kept trying to keep his composure, because he really wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who slept with the girl right away; he had known too many of those guys at college, seen too many of them back home too, when he visited his brother in the fall. He found the hookup culture he was surrounded by almost unnerving. He'd been raised with integrity, with respect; and being here in a new country had challenged his beliefs, for sure, but not when it came to sex or romance.
But you were determined. Your body had a mind of its own, and this whole night had felt surreal for hours now. Your own, already loose morals were thrown out the window, and you didn't give a fuck. You wanted him now, forget whatever the hell you'd said earlier; you didn't even remember it anymore, too filled with arousal to think straight.
You grabbed onto his arm closest to you, pulling him in.
"Hey, I thought you said-"
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face towards yours, leaning back slightly to arch into him. It was feverish as your lips met, mouths open, your legs already shaking as you wrapped them around his waist. It didn't take long for his hands to find your hips, your waist; he dug in, feeling the softness of you, softness he wanted to be wrapped in forever. He'd kept his composure the whole way here, not putting a hand on your thigh in the Uber, not a hand on your back as you walked through his front door. But now, it had left him; just five seconds of you in his grasp, and he knew he could never let go. His tongue swiped into your mouth, sucking hard on your lower lip, and without thinking he was reaching under your dress, feeling over the bare expanse of skin.
You hadn't worn a bra or panties tonight. He could tell about the bra, from the way your dress caught on your chest, but the panties were a surprise, making his head fuzzy as he reached down to your ass and found it bare for him. Your hands now were desperately grabbing at his over-shirt, trying in vain to undo each pesky button as you kept kissing him, your hands stumbling and failing over and over. Finally, he reached up and just ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and falling onto the floor in a soft rattle. He flung it off his arms, his tight under shirt leaving nothing anymore to your imagination. His abs rippled underneath it; you'd never seen abs like that in person before, weren't sure that they even existed. Especially not on a man who worked in tech, whose face was prettier than a porcelain doll's.
He came back to you, breathing hard; you grabbed at his abdomen, his shoulders, his chest, desperate to feel all of the perfection in front of you. You could smell the sweat on him now, musky and rich notes hitting your nose and making your body heat even more. He moved his mouth to your neck, your ear, making you whine and squirm with pleasure, sharp sparklers of energy running down the entirety of your body. You were pulling at him, desperately, forgetting any sense of where you were, or what you'd planned for tonight. As he licked a stripe up your collar bone you squealed loudly, the feeling ticklish and pleasurable all the same, and you jerked away from him momentarily, falling into a fit of giggles.
Suddenly there was a crash; the mug next to you was sent flying to the floor by your hip, and now it's pieces spread out across the grey tile, littering it in shards.
"Fuck, sorry," you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your open mouth. You were expecting maybe a light chuckle, maybe a shocked noise, for San to want to clean this up right away before you two got to whatever you were doing; instead he laughed deeply, his bright, wide smile back on his face, dimples staring you in the face for the probably thousandth time that night. He looked down to each side of his feet, sighing ever so slightly, before moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes thoughtful.
"Fuck it," he laughed with a shake of his head, grabbing you again, his hand on the back of your neck, soft lips wrapped around your own. You giggled into his mouth, so overcome by the chaotic set of events; but it only took a moment of his lips on yours again for you to melt, your legs around him, your breathing hot and heavy as he grabbed at your dress, pulling it up at the front to reveal your bare crotch to the room, running two of his fingers down your slit to see how wet you were.
"Fuck, San," you gasped, feeling how easily his slippery fingers moved, his movement unexpected.
"You want this, right?" he asked you, voice husky and deep. His eyes were boring into yours, and his look was dark and intense. It made you shiver to look back at him, and a part of you wanted to look away, to not feel the complex string of emotions tumbling through you. It almost felt like dread; dread laced with beauty, laced with desire and sweetness and everything addictive, and you just couldn't bring the rest of yourself to look away.
"Yes, please," you responded, pushing your hips down onto his hand, grinding onto his fingers. "Please fuck me, San."
You'd never said anything like this in your life; you'd only imagined it, or read it. As cheesy as it could feel on the page, in that moment it felt consumingly empowering, downright sexy. You pulled at his belt in front of you, your mouths meeting again, his teeth scraping over your upper lip as he nearly devoured you. Once again, you struggled with undoing his clothing; he moved his hands away from you to unclasp it himself, pulling it hard and tossing it to the ground when he had. Your hands were around his chin, holding his face to you as you messily kept kissing, his hands now working on the button and zipper of his jeans. In a matter of moments he'd pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and held it in his hand, hungrily eyeing your flushed cunt in front of him.
"Let me get a condom," he huffed, clearly having to work at pulling his eyes away from you.
"No, I have an implant," you said, pointing to your left arm. You saw his eyes twitch to side for a moment, like his brain was struggling to process what you'd just said. "It's fine, I can't get pregnant," you added, in case he didn't know what the hell you were trying to say. It took another few moments for him to accept it; but once he did he moved his cock closer to your aching entrance, and rubbed it along your slit where his fingers had been just seconds ago.
"Fuck," you sighed, head hitting his shoulder as he leaned into you, as he spread your wetness over his tip. Your closed eyes cloaked you in almost darkness, only the soft light in the kitchen illuminating the room, and all you could feel was your throbbing cunt and San's movements, already whimpering and moaning in his ear. He lined himself up carefully, pulling your hips to the very edge of the counter to give him room, and slowly sank halfway down.
"Oh my god," you squeaked, the stretch not at all what you expected. He was far bigger than any man you'd ever been with; it almost hurt, and you'd never experienced this before, so you had no idea if this was a hurt that would subside, or a hurt that would grow and fester. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as he slowly pulled out of you again, thrusting back in just slightly deeper, his movements slow and controlled.
"Ahhh, shit," you whined again, grip on his shoulders even tighter.
"I need you to relax for me," he said in your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending tremors of pleasure through you.
"I'm trying," you squeaked out, face stuck in his neck as you tried to breath slowly.
"Need me to stop?" he asked, stilling his movements completely, holding onto your lower back for support.
"No, please don't stop," you whispered, finally finding some control of your breath. "Just give me a second."
San obliged, kissing the top of your head as he ran a comforting hand down your back. You continued to breathe deep, continued to take in his scent, and in a few short moments you felt the walls of your cunt finally release a bit, allowing you to rock yourself against him without pain.
"Okay, I'm ready," you said, bracing yourself, and a moment later you felt him push himself in further, finally bottoming out. You both let out a guttural groan; it felt like you'd discovered new parts of yourselves in that moment, like your bodies were made for each other, made to pleasure each other just the way you needed.
"Fuck, y/n," San moaned your name, your walls tight around him as he pulled back again, thrusting short and soft at first. Hearing your name roll of his tongue made your chest swell; it was far to intense, all of these emotions you were having, for you to utter a thing. Soon he was thrusting faster, setting a steady pace as he held firm onto your hips, his mouth on your neck leaving bruising bites that you'd have to deal with tomorrow. You were breathing ragged, an eruption of feelings so perfect coming from your core that you couldn't quite believe it.
Then it happened; he picked you up by your hips, holding you dead in the air, still thrusting into you. If anything his thrusts were harder, deeper now; the position had given him space, and he used every bit of it, his thrusts becoming longer, harder, his cock nearly falling out of you when he pulled out. Your moans turned to screams; you were no longer aware at all of what sounds you were making, so overcome with the severe intensity of the feelings in your core.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you started babbling, breathing desperately, your hands again grasping at his shoulders.
"What?" he asked between grunts, a chuckle following.
"I didn't- fuck- think this was po-ossible," you stuttered, his thrusts not letting up, the feeling so intense it almost was zapping you back into the moment again, reversing the drifting that your mind had started to do. This felt real; felt too real, too intense. You swore you could feel every vein in his shaft, feel the exact shape of his head. Your orgasm was building, fast, and you'd never come just from penetration.
"Now you know, baby," he chuckled again, not letting up. Soon you were clenching hard, the rippling feelings of your climax building to their peak, your legs around his hips, squeezing him.
"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, biting down on the top of his shoulder, shaking hard.
"Did you come?" he asked, still thrusting hard, wanting you to ride it out as much as you could.
"Yes," you almost sobbed, drool dripping down onto his bare skin. "Slow down," you whined, and he did, gradually slowing his movements until he'd stopped, placing a quick kiss on your neck and making you squeal again.
After that, the night was a blur. He took you again, on the couch, and you came so many times you couldn't keep track. He was flipping you around, holding up your legs; he seemed to know every perfect angle to make your cunt feel even better, and you gladly accepted every movement from him. When he finally came he dropped down between your legs, eating you out as his cum dropped out of you, his face a flushed mess when he looked up to take a breath. You came again; finally, you begged him to stop. Your body was spent, you couldn't take anymore. When you looked at your phone it was nearly six in the morning, and when you ventured a look over to his kitchen window you recognized the first signs of winter dawn, the sky not as dark as it had been.
He made you stay put, cleaning you up in a fluffy towel, picking you up to carry you to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress; then his own clothes came off entirely, and you ogled him all over again, as he scolded you and told you to get some much needed sleep. Wrapped around him your cunt seemed to stay permanently wet; you thought there was no way you'd fall asleep, but it was late, even for you. Soon you were both out cold, San's blackout curtains tricking your bodies. It wasn't until nearly three that afternoon that you woke.
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"You stay, I'll go make us some food," San yawned, kissing your forehead, your face smushed in his chest.
"Are you sure?" you pouted, looking up at him. Even with his curtains open the sky outside was dark; what time it was now, you had no idea. After you awoke and showered, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Another slew of hours had flown by, and your pussy was aching, begging you to give her a break. You couldn't help how fucking good it felt, though. You wanted it to never end. You were sure you could be satisfied with your life if all you ever did from now on was fuck him.
"Oh god, don't give me that look," he groaned, turning his head away. You laughed, tugging yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. "I thought you said you were hungry," he said, arms around you too.
"I am," you answered, snuggling into him.
"Well I can't make you food if you're laying on top of me," he responded, squeezing the tops of your thighs.
"I think you're definitely strong enough to carry me around," you said, giggling.
"Oh, is that what you want? You done with walking?" he joked, pinching your thigh.
"Ah, hey!" you squealed, jerking off of him, trying to reach for his ribs to tickle him in retaliation. But just then your stomach rumbled, so loud you both could hear.
"Come on, let me make food. What do you want?" he asked, sitting himself up.
"Do you have eggs?" you said, and he nodded. "Can you make just some toast and scrambled eggs?"
"Of course, anything else?" he responded, standing up off the bed. The naked form of him in front of you was so distracting, especially in the hazy light coming in from outside, the evening street lights shining in through San's huge window. You took a mental screenshot; no one else could ever look this good, you thought, in such low light. It accentuated every nook and cranny of his body; he was so perfectly built, every little part. It was hard not to stare at the curve of his ass as he threw on some sweats, or the muscles of his back as he stretched his arms.
"No, I just have that for breakfast every day. I like simple food," you said, yawning again and sitting yourself up.
"Me too," he smiled, looking back at you for a moment before exiting the room, clinks sounding from the kitchen as he started preparing.
It took you some time to finally get yourself up; your body was wracked with exhaustion, but you'd never felt better. You felt on a permanent high around him; you grabbed your crumpled dress from the floor and slipped it over yourself, finally walking out to the living room to check your phone, which was probably dead. As you came out you saw San on the floor cleaning, the remnants of that poor mug swept into a pile at the corner of his kitchen.
"Oh shit, let me help you with that," you said, making your way over, but San stopped you.
"No, don't walk over here, you'll cut your feet. I'll take care of it, it's no biggie." You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, but already this dynamic felt comfortable. If he really was fine with it, then you were fine letting him deal with the mess you'd made. You turned on your heel and walked over the couch, grabbing your phone off the coffee table, checking the time.
|6:14 pm|
You saw a slew of texts, but your battery was at ten percent, so you ran to your purse to grab your charging cable, plugging it in.
{Titi}
|3:43pm| how was your night bestie?? |5:58pm| please tell me you didn't get kidnapped |6:14pm| fuck sorry, I hadn't looked at my phone till now |6:14pm| I am alive and well
|6:15pm| oh thank god, we were worried |6:15pm| nothing to be worried about 😌 |6:16pm| so how'd it go?? |6:16pm| girl, we fucked for like three hours last night 😭 |6:16pm| HELLO |6:16pm| are you okay??? 😭 |6:17pm| Maya just said you're putting us lesbians to shame 💀 |6:17pm| 💀💀 |6:17pm| we fucked for like three hours this morning too |6:17pm| GIRL |6:17pm| RIP to your vagina |6:18pm| she's never been happier 😭
|6:18pm| this is so crazy |6:18pm| you home now? |6:18pm| I KNOW |6:18pm| no I'm still here, he's making some food for us
|6:18pm| wow |6:18pm| just wow, idk what else to say 😭 |6:19pm| girl same |6:19pm| you busy tomorrow? |6:19pm| no, why? |6:19pm| I'll bring over some dinner at seven, I have so much to tell you |6:19pm| I can't wait 💕
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Present
It was nearly noon, when you woke. Slowly your consciousness came back to you; at first you only felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you, and you knew for sure you weren't in your bed, nor on your friend's couch like you'd planned. You were in the place you'd ended up so many times this month; maybe close to twenty of the nights of January you'd spent here. Thinking of it pulled at you. You knew this was a mistake, ending up here, knew something terrible would come of this. But you hadn't had the will this morning to stop it. You woke grumpy, worried, with the events of the morning spiraling through your head, especially Tina's flushed face of agony and the guttural sounds she made as she threw up.
You were worried, as much as she told you not to be. You'd never seen her like this in the five years you'd known her. As soon as your eyes melted open you were reaching for your phone on the night stand, finding it plugged in to San's charger, a glass of water there too.
You shot off a quick text to your group chat with Tina and Maya. How are y'all feeling? You didn't want to smother them with your worry, so you kept it as casual as you could, sipping at the water beside you and scrolling mindlessly through the other notifications littering your screen. There would be no convincing Tina to go get checked out; you had to accept it, had to welcome the fact that it'd be you and Maya keeping her well. She mistrusted doctors, on top of the unneeded expense, and you completely understood why; with the experiences she'd had, there would be no reason to give them a second chance. But she'd always had a stomach of steel; to see her so unwell was unnerving you, tremendously.
Finally you pushed yourself up; your stomach was rumbling, your head still aching with exhaustion, but the feeling was duller than this morning. The sleep you'd just woken from had been helpful, no doubt, but you wished you felt a little more normal today, instead of sleep deprived and emotionally unsteady. You had important work to do; you needed to head home fast, needed to not get distracted by San like you always did. You couldn't afford to spend the rest of the afternoon here eating and watching a musical, forcing him to recreate it with you. You had a musical of your own to edit.
"Hey," he said when you poked your head out of his room, walking gingerly over to him in the kitchen. He was preparing some lunch for himself; a block of tofu lay resting on the counter, as San chopped peppers and onions and broccoli. The smells of ginger and garlic already wafted from the pan, and San stood shirtless, in just grey sweat pants as he cooked, looking like someone out of any person's dreams.
"Hey," you responded, sighing. His body was alight with energy; he must have hit the gym while you were sleeping, which always left him feeling perky and bright. It was wafting off of him, this positive energy, and it couldn't have conflicted more with the heavy stress coursing through you. It was abundant in your tone; you'd gotten less and less good at hiding it from him, how you felt. Especially this last month.
"You want some breakfast?" he asked you, tossing the onions and peppers into his pan before stirring them with a spatula.
"I can make it," you mumbled, crossing past him to the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf.
"Let me do it, I know you're exhausted," he said, coming over to you to grab the carton from your hands.
"No, I want to," you sighed, holding it to your side and out of his reach, a grumpy frown on your face.
"Okay, if you insist," he responded, palms up. Your terrible mood was worrying him deeply, but he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that this afternoon was in fact the time to finally do it. He'd been at the gym almost two hours, pumping himself up, doing every exercise he could think of to distract himself from the dread that was slowly filling him. It was like sand in an hour glass, falling slowly enough that he could forget it if he tried. Which he'd successfully done all morning, until your tired form appeared from his bedroom door.
You started preparing your food in silence, the sizzling of San's stir fry and clinking of dishes the only sounds in the room. You were thankful you'd be leaving him in a good mood; it was always hard to leave when he was sad, or grumpy, because every single part of you needed to make him feel better, needed a happy look on his face for you to feel okay. There was no doubt he was meal prepping for the week, given the amount of food he was making, and you sighed in hoping that the future days were on his mind now, instead of the past few.
"I realized something this morning," he said out of nowhere, tossing in his chopped tofu. Your eggs had just finished, so you turned off the burner, plopped them onto your plate, and grabbed your two slices of bread from the toaster, carefully spreading on the perfect amount of butter.
"What's that?" you asked, mind still elsewhere, running in circles and figure eights.
"We met exactly one year ago, today," he said, voice bright and breathy.
"Oh shit, really?" you asked, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer, then shoving a piece of toast in your mouth.
"Yeah, don't you remember?" he responded, voice lilting a bit. You mindlessly stuffed some eggs in your mouth, savoring the flavor of the local organic eggs that San always had in stock.
"Yeah, I just didn't realize it was that da-" you cut yourself off when you saw his face, his eyes glassy and jaw set. "Sannie, oh my god, don't cry. I'm not that special," you said, almost scoffing at the emotion coming off of him.
"Yes you are," he said, turning back to the pan on the stove, wiping something that must have been a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.
"I'm really not," you responded, walking back towards his bedroom to find your phone again, which you'd accidentally left behind. Inside his room you could hear him speak from the kitchen, but you couldn't make out the words. You were distracted by the text you'd received from Maya, i'm doing even better, but Titi is still pretty bad. the Tylenol and everything has been so helpful though. and whatever those anti-nausea meds were, please thank San for me. she's able to keep down fluids now.
I'm glad to hear that. I hope she keeps getting better. She looked awful this morning, you responded, typing it out with your right thumb as your left hand balanced your plate of food.
"You gonna eat in here?" San asked from the doorway, and you snapped your head around to meet his gaze.
"No, sorry, just checking my phone. I had texted Maya asking how they were doing," you responded, mouth in a tight line.
"How's Tina?" he asked.
"Fine, it sounds like. Maya said to thank you for all the stuff you got them," you said.
"It's no biggie. I'm glad it's helping," he said, eyes blinking and face neutral. No biggie, the words made you want to roll your eyes. It was always 'no big deal' to him to do so much, and you'd started to realize that those words were total fucking bullshit. 'No biggie' was seemingly just a favorite English phrase of his, one that made him sound selfless and kind in the way he wanted to be. But you could see the flash of irritation in his eyes, you knew damn well that he was upset that you'd called this morning and made him feel obligated to come and help. He'd wanted your thanks for doing so, which you could recognize was fair. But he also should have said no, if he really didn't want to do it. You couldn't help the fact that he'd been lax with you since the start; one year now, as he'd just reminded you, of you pushing his boundaries and him relenting, and somehow he was still frustrated every time it happened. Like he didn't realize this was just how things were.
You waited till he turned around to point your eyes to the ceiling, a long deep sigh matching the movements of your eyes. You just had to eat and get out of here, one simple task. Then you could be home and worrying about the work ahead of you, or you could be on the phone to Tina and checking on her. You couldn't wait for the relief of hearing her voice.
"Did you hear what I said earlier?" San asked as you walked out of his room, sitting yourself down on his couch to finish your food.
"I don't know, what did you say?" you asked, placing your phone face down next to you.
"I asked if you remembered what you said to me that night we met, right before we came here?" he said, his own bowl of food in hand as he sat down a few feet from you.
"I don't think I do," you responded, sighing as you took another huge bite.
"Really?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised.
"Yes really, San, was it something I should remember?" you asked.
"It's just kind of funny, given what happened next," he said, taking a bite of his stir fry. You gave him a confused look, head cocking to the side. "You said, 'sure I'll come to your apartment, but I'm not fucking you'," he said, chuckling.
"I did not," you scoffed, shaking your head at the thought of it.
"You did, I swear," he continued, eyeing you. "Kind of crazy considering that's exactly what you did for the next forty-eight hours."
"Oh my god, shut up," you rolled your eyes, grabbing the throw pillow to your right and smacking his arm with it. He laughed and batted it away, careful to protect his food as you swung it recklessly. "Also, you say that as if I'm the only one involved in that activity, you ass. That was very much a 'it takes two to tango' situation, Sannie."
San laughed hard in response to that, his dimples popping and his chest rising and falling with each chuckle. He was satisfied to have brought out some humor in you; he knew that was the way he could get you to calm down, to feel a little better and be ready for everything he was about to launch into.
"Do you know that you're the only one other than my mom that I let call me Sannie?" he said, voice softer.
"No I didn't- wait, why?" you asked, suddenly really thinking about what he'd said.
"Uh- you just, I..." he looked at you with a confusing expression, face a mixture of what looked like shock and anticipation.
"Sannie is a special nickname only your mom uses for you?" you asked, tone harsher than he'd hoped.
"Yeah," he sighed, looking at you.
"Then why do you let me call you that?" you asked, placing your finished plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, then leaning back and crossing your legs and arms.
"Cause you're special to me," he said, resting the side of his head on his palm, eyeing you deeply now.
"San- I- I thought that was what everyone called you, I thought it was just your nickname. I wouldn't have started calling you that if I'd known it was a you and your mom thing. I'm not trying to be some replacement for her, or something," you stuttered, hands gesturing in front of your face to emphasize your point.
"Of course you're not a replacement for here, god, you're just special to me, can't you understand-"
"San, why would I be the only one who gets to use the special nickname? You have closer friends, a brother, other family you're close to, I'm just a girl you sleep with sometimes. I'm not the love of your life, or something, we're not married with a baby on the way, and now that we're a family unit of our own you're letting me use this special name for you. We're just friends, why didn't you tell me!?" you snapped, cutting him off mid sentence without a care in the world.
"We're not just friends, y/n," he grumbled, face stony. "And I don't see what a big deal it is that I let you use that nickname. You're the one who started using it without even asking me if it was okay," he shot back, face and body completely still.
"Fuck you," you muttered, standing up and grabbing your plate, walking over to the sink to clean it. "I know you think everything bad between us is my fault; you probably somehow think that shit you pulled last night is my fault, too."
"I wanted to talk to you about that, I wanted to apologize-"
"Oh, you wanted to apologize for choking me? Slapping me? Practically raping me?" you turned around, staring at him with wide, petulant eyes.
"Oh god, please don't use that word," he sighed, his food long abandoned as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
"Why, cause it's honest?" you shot back, rolling your eyes at him.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I did that baby, I know it was wrong, it was so wrong, I'm just, please know I'm so fucking sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you..." he trailed off, mumbling, a deep sniffle cutting off his words. He was sobbing into his hands, his bare shoulders moving up and down as he heaved, trying with all his might to stop himself from completely breaking down. The sight of it immediately shot right through you; you started crying too, in an instant a huge deluge of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor below. It was so painful, whatever this feeling was; it was like the entire foundation of your body was cracking, like you were about to crumble in on yourself and die on the spot.
"Sannie, please, stop crying," you managed to say, haphazardly wiping the tears from your eyes. But they kept coming; they wouldn't stop until his stopped, you realized; there was something in you that was breaking with him, like your beratement of him was a boomerang, swinging back and hitting you too.
"I can't, I'm sorry," he squeaked, and you'd never heard his voice like that, never seen him break down so severely.
"Sannie, please," you cried, and suddenly your feet were rushing over to him, and you wrapped your hands around his folded torso, your tears now falling onto the smooth plane of his back. "Please, when you cry I cry, and I don't wanna fucking cry right now."
It made him cry harder, hearing the desperation in your tone; he tried with all his might to calm himself, to take some deep breaths. But he didn't have the strength; the exhaustion from this past month was really catching up with him, and that high he was riding from the gym this morning was long gone. There was nothing he could do now to stop this; he never cried like this, he was sure the last time was more than a decade ago. He had no idea how to put an end to it.
"I'm sorry I used that word, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you chocked out, breathing through your tears as best as you could, holding onto him for dear life. There were no words on his tongue; he couldn't think of anything now, couldn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say to you, the conversation he'd worked himself up to all morning. Instead he was left with this terrible hollow hole in his chest; one you had created, one you filled, one that he feared more than anything. Your tears were the worst thing for him; the gash you'd carved only grew, deeper, wider, getting closer to the exact shape of you, and all he could do was sit himself up and grab you, wrapping you around him and holding you tight.
"You're not just my friend," he said, voice thin and weak with tears. "And right now I fucking hate you."
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next part ->
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Taglist: @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024 @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @completelyjae
@midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27
Thank you for reading and supporting me my loves! <3333
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isaspsp · 10 hours ago
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I think my parents did pretty similar things. I'm feeling sensitive right now so, story sharing time.
I did misbehave every now and then, as all kids do. I don't remember this incident, but my mom does. I was doing whatever naughty thing, and she hit me to make me stop and discipline me. I stopped, started crying, and went away. My mom never hit me after that. She says it's one of her biggest regrets.
I remember when we got our big TV. I was maybe 8-9 and we had been at the store all day. I wasn't particularly interested in picking out a TV cus that seemed like adult business, and children have no right to poke their nose of that. But then, my dad crouches next to me, points to the final two tvs they were deciding between, and asked me which one I thought was best. And I do remember asking, "Why are you asking me this? I am a child." He laughed and said something among the lines of, "Children are always honest." And that gave me all the confidence and reassurance to choose what would be our TV for the next 10+ years.
They took the effort to see my side aswell. I grew up with my cousins. We were 6 kids in total, and with two of them being older, we 4 youngsters played together a lot. Of these four, the oldest used to bully me a lot (I bit him really hard once as revenge, but that is another story) and I had two younger cousins, the youngest of which, was the one I saw most often. He would come with us to trips and such. But he was the younger child, so he had preferences over me. If I had anything he wanted, I HAD to share. If he wanted to sit where I was, I had to move, lest he makes a fuss. But, if he had something that I wanted? He was under no obligation to share. It was Easter time, I was about 13 (?), and we had gotten ourselves fancy chocolate eggs. My aunt had gone along with us to shop. I'd done my research at the site of the store we were going to, so I knew exactly what I wanted. My aunt didn't know what to get my cousin, so she followed my lead and got him the same two eggs. My aunt used to be paid to clean our house once in a while and just so happened that that week my little cousin had come along. I was going to travel that weekend, and my eggs would be left behind, I'd only have them when we came back. So, having been thinking and fantasizing about the chocolate eggs for weeks, I sneaked around, opened one of the boxes, grabbed a piece, ate some, and put the rest in the refrigerator My aunt saw me do this. Later, my parents confronted me about it; my aunt had told them what happened, that I tried to hide just so I wouldn't have to share. I started crying about how if I didn't sneak around I would've had to share with my cousin, who had the exact same egg at his home, who wouldn't have to wait to come back from a trip, and that I would never get the same kindness back, the piece he would've taken from me, the egg that I so researched to get, that I beheaved and did well in school to get, I would have to give away, even if it was a small piece, and tgat, even if I asked nicely, my cousin wouldve said no, and nothing would be done anout it. And the damn was broken, so I mentioned also all the other times I had to give in because I was older, he was younger and I was bigger and could hurt him more. They looked at each other... and agreed with me. I was forced to share less after that. I still shared, of course, but now... I wasn't forced as much. (At least by my parents, we couldn't control everyone or course u_u)
I genuinely remember very VERY few times of my parents taking away my stuff or banning m3 from activities. If I remember at all, because all I have are "vague feelings" that it happened. And honestly, I think I turned out better for it.
I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.
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babvc-au · 1 day ago
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Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!
Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)
So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)
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Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.
Scene 6 Nightmare:
It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.
"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.
"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.
"Why did you resist?" OB
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"What?"
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Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.
"Why!?" OB
"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.
"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.
"I'm sick of waiting"
The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.
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“But, how…?”
He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”
Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.
“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused. 
"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked. 
"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked. 
Camera focuses on the can in his hand.
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Scene 8:
Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.
"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.
"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.
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"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.
Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.
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Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.
"Oh! um, what's the special today?"
"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.
Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."
"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.
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(Isn't that-?)
Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.
(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)
Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"
"I'll be back."
Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.
"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.
"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.
Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.
"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"
"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.
Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."
"..."
"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.
Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.
"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.
"Thanks," he says.
She walks away.
"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.
Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.
"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.
"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.
Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.
"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.
"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.
"Was that someone you knew?"
"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.
It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.
"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."
"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."
Boris sighs, "...Ok"
Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.
Scene 9
Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.
Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”
Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”
“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”
Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.
(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)
"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]
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"What is it?"
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"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."
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"..."
"Is that so..."
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(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)
Scene 12
Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.
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(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)
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Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.
"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?
"Huh?"
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"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"
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Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.
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"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-
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Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"
"Garlic!?"
"No"
"A cross!?"
"Nope"
"A stake!?" (It's a twig)
"Na-da"
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"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)
"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"
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inkedinshadows · 23 hours ago
Note
For the requests: "I would certainly take all night" with Eris, please. I would be forever indebted to you. Can be smut or not, write it however you want! :)
Held in Firelight
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Pairing: Eris x f!reader
A/N: Hi! No need to be indebted, don't worry! I just hope you'll like this bc I really liked this idea but I wrote it after six hours of class so it might not be my best work. I also don't know how to label it because it's a bit fluffy with a tiny sprinkle of angst and allusions to smutty bits? Idk idk I really like it tho
Warnings: arranged marriage, cheating (but the parties involved are aware so idk)
Word count: 1k
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“I think he has a new lover.”
Your words cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the sitting room. Eris raised a brow, but you continued to stir the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the swirling red liquid.
The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he asked, “What makes you think that?”
You shrugged one shoulder. “He spent every night out this week. He doesn't do that if he's just sleeping around. He still comes home.”
Eris hummed, as if contemplating your answer.
These were your favorite moments—when Eris didn’t have court duties to attend to and could spend hours talking and drinking with you. It was your favorite way to ease the stress and tension of the life you had been forced into.
“He was out even two nights ago?”
You looked up at him. The firelight flickered on the side of his face, turning his hair into molten copper. You felt a sudden urge to reach across the couch and run your fingers through it.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”
“It was your birthday,” he stated simply.
“So?”
He looked startled. “You really don’t care that he forgot?”
You sighed, setting your glass down. “Eris, he hasn't remembered my birthday in years.”
He didn’t reply, but his jaw clenched. You couldn’t tell if the flames in his eyes were just a reflection of the fire or if it was that simmering power of his.
With another sigh, you pressed on. “Let’s say he remembers,” you said. “Then what? You really believe he would spend the whole night with me, taking his sweet time to make me feel cherished, at least on my birthday?” You shook your head, the mere thought making you scoff. “No, I prefer it this way. He doesn't care about me, I don't care about him, and there's no point in pretending we do.”
Eris remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, his fingers clutching the stem of his glass so tightly you thought it might break. You knew he cared about you, that he hated your situation as much as you did, but even he couldn’t change it. Maybe once he became High Lord he’d banish arranged marriages and spare others from this fate, but it was too late for you.
Picking up your glass again, you tucked your legs beneath you and settled back against the pillows. You took a sip of wine, hoping that its rich taste might offer an excuse to change the topic, but you came up empty. You’d already commented on the flavor when he opened the bottle.
“I would certainly take all night.”
His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but when you turned to look at him, he was still facing away from you.
“What?” you blurted out. Surely, you had heard that wrong.
Finally, his eyes met yours, determined and unflinching. “I would take all night with you,” he repeated, “I would cherish you. And not just on your birthday.”
Your breath hitched. There had been a few lingering touches, a brush of fingers, words whispered after one too many glasses of wine. But never like this—so plain and blatant, so unguarded.
“Don't say that,” you murmured.
“Why not?” His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place. There was no escape—not that you wanted one. “We both want it.”
He was right. There was no arguing with that. Yet you still shook your head. “Eris, we can't.”
He moved closer. You didn’t resist when he took your glass and set it on the small table alongside his. An empty bottle stood next to an unopened one.
“Why not?” he asked again, his voice gentler now. “Just because you’re married? How many other females has he been with?”
Countless.
Maybe Eris was right about that too. Maybe you didn’t owe loyalty to a husband you had never wanted—a husband who had never been loyal to you. If he could have all the females he wanted, then maybe you could have the one male you wanted. The one person who always understood you, who never judged or mistreated you.
“When was the last time someone made you feel cherished?” Eris’s hand covered yours, his slender fingers intertwining with your own, squeezing once. “Made you feel good?”
You had never thought about your marriage in those terms. You had never wanted that union in the first place, so you had clung to the small things. Time away from your husband was good. You hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and your conversations were awkward and stiff enough that the thought of intimacy hadn't crossed your mind in years. And you’d told yourself that was good enough.
But deep down, it had never really felt good.
Eris was still looking at you, his expression soft and understanding. As if he could see your every thought.
You looked away, unable to stomach it. “I don't know,” you finally whispered.
“Let me be that person.” He reached out, gently tilting your chin. “Let me make you feel good.”
Your eyes met again, and your resolve wavered. Then he brushed his thumb over your lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper.
“Let me love you.”
That word.
Love.
Your husband had never uttered it to you, nor had you to him. But hearing it from Eris… you knew he didn't mean just now—a stolen moment to carry in your heart. And that realization was the final push you needed.
You didn't know who moved first. One moment you were staring into each other's eyes. The next, your lips met.
He tasted like a wish come true after years of waiting.
You were done longing and yearning in secret, done pretending you didn't know what you truly wanted.
And as Eris loved you in front of the fireplace, you finally felt good. You felt cherished. And he took all night to make sure of it.
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43501 · 1 day ago
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Opened my copy of Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases for the first time in a decade and man, I forgot this is a goldmine of info and Mello characterization. It lets us know what kind of person Mello is almost more than the source material. Every time he's on panel/screen he's always so intense, it's fascinating to see him write and kind of get this feeling of "oh, he is also a normal guy outside of those situations".
He says he had one extensive in-person meeting with L, which is backed up by this other post of mine where I point out that, in the anime at least, Mello references having spoken to L personally. If we take it as canon it means L and Mello met at some point between Kira emerging and L leaving England for Japan.
He expresses a strong sense he might die. I've seen people say that he's "narrating from beyond (heh) the grave" and it's nonsensical, but that's not what's happening here. He's just writing while anticipating his death and writing as if these notes may be discovered posthumously.
He thinks that, in the event he dies, Near is the one who will discover his writings. This is interesting to me because it suggests Mello either knows Near knows his whereabouts, or would figure it out and recover his belongings. I actually think this is outright supported by canon - we see Near eating Mello's chocolate in the manga's epilogue. I don't think he instructed his staff to go out and buy that same chocolate, I think that's straight up Mello's stash.
At some point he started identifying less with the "Mello" alias and calling himself Mihael.
He's so sentimental... ending the prologue simply with "Good memories and nightmares". Bro.
"Imagine you were going to kill someone. What do you think would be the most difficult part? .... The correct answer: killing someone." Damn, I love you Mello lol. Also fascinating when you remember that he achieved his status in the mafia by beheading someone. Yes, he would know how hard it is to kill a person.
Mello states that he and Near belong to the "fourth generation" of Wammy's House kids.
He expresses open sympathy for Beyond and his state, twice... based on his own narration and how he portrays B in the course of the story, he definitely relates to B's emotions.
"Perhaps these gods actually wanted a blood soaked world of betrayal and false accusation. Perhaps the entire episode exists as a lesson to teach us the difference between the Almighty and the shinigami." I can't entirely make sense of this, and I don't want to get ahead of myself, but is "Almighty" capitalized here to definitely refer to the divine? Like, the Christian God but in a bit of a sidestepped, roundabout way? Wish I could see the original Japanese text for this line. If anyone has essays/posts about it, please show me.
And on a meta-textual level, the ambiguity of our role/perspective as the reader of these notes is also interesting. We're probably just an omniscient, unmoored observer being told about this set of notes Mello wrote and his line to the effect of "if it happens to turn into [a book]" is tongue-in-cheek. I know there's a slight, hanging implication that Near did in fact publish his notes, but I think that's unlikely since they contain so much sensitive/classified information.
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angelsndragons · 22 hours ago
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so my forever gm needed a break. given that this was my only in-person game and i wanted to retain that connection to my community, i volunteered to run the next campaign so she could take a break and just enjoy playing.
i decided to go with a module i knew, having been a pc in it a few years prior: storm king's thunder. i took her copy of the book and started reading.
and nearly threw it through a window in frustration.
for those of you who don't know, the core giant races in the book are very star trek hat-esque. they have Their Thing and that's it. almost all of the giant npcs are evil and out to destroy the world of smallfolk using their delegated hats. there was a shakespearean drama happening at certain points behind the scenes but nothing else in the book supported that level of complexity with the giants or with the scripted encounters in the book. okay so you're telling me a small goblin tribe has holed up in a cave system and when a bunch of villagers flee into said cave, they...take them all prisoner and go raid their village? after learning that the villagers were fleeing from a giant attack on said village? after learning that most of the guards are still in the village proper, defending the broken keep? really? nah, man, that's just not engaging with the goblins as a culture and people.
i think the worst offenders are the hill giants. they're given heinously low soft stats, are treated as nothing more than glutinous sacks of hit points, and they're the fucking butt of the joke. two hill giants can't navigate their way back to their home base after an attack (meaning that the players can't use said hill giants to scout and find the place either). they're tricked at every interval. the big hill giant plot is for the chief to eat literally any and all food her minions can bring her so that she'll grow to be the biggest giant in existence. yes, she too is treated like the butt of a joke for daring to think that that plan is good or viable. she's so fat (and the book goes into this over and over) that she can no longer walk and the wagon she's seated on is broken and hasn't been repaired. she is in fact so fat and so stupid that she forgets that she has a macguffin the party needs. oh and the book goes into great detail about how slovenly and disgusting her place is and then has the nerve throw in a "overbearing wife beats and bullies her husband" joke in there just to round out the misery. this whole ass culture of bad guys is treated like they are goddamn animals, not people.
needless to say i have chucked a great deal of this. the goblins are practical survivalists (we are small and easily squished, if we can't hide we go along until we can escape) and when ogres and giants moved in, they decided to follow orders to gather food right up until the party gives them a legitimate out. thanks to their intervention, this group of goblins are off the board as future enemies and will in fact be appearing as occasional help (one of my players decided they liked the goblins so much that they created a new character to be from that group).
the hill giants now have traditions surrounding food preparation and preservation that go back thousands of years and much of the small folk's current tech in that department is based off of hill giant innovations, which the party is learning about. their ancestors sleep in the hilly regions of the world, growing and growing together, their sometimes living bodies make up the very ground that the small folk walk on and find nourishment from. the hill giants, along with their stone and cloud brethren, are the only giants who remember that giants become one with the land. one amongst many slowly dying giant races and they choose to, well, not embrace it but find peace in it. they're still gullible and still view size as incredibly important but one's skill in the culinary arts can propel them to leadership. chief guh is a culinary visionary who perfected the art of preparing dragon meat and as giants and dragons are enemies beyond memory, that is quite the feat. will the party come to blows with her? i mean, maybe. but at least she and her people won't end up as 'dumb, slow, fat' person jokes.
framing is so important you guys. it's work but it is so worth it. i had my players spitting nails at the racist, isolationist elves whom the village the party was helping were counting on for survival. i had them tearing up as they decided to knowingly walk a group of orcs to their deaths at the hands of the racist, isolationist elves because it was the only way the elves would agree to supply the village through a brutal winter after the village lost everything. one elf, just one, was curious, if completely incorrect, about the outside world and mostly respectful to the pcs. one of the players is now penpals with him and has sent him a history of the sword coast he otherwise doesn't have access to because his people Do Not Care about the world beyond their borders. the campaign is richer for delving deeper into these cultures and people
Putting all tabletop players into a college level ethics class and forcing them to turn in a paper on moral philosophy before buying a new book
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fangirl-writes · 18 hours ago
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Need A Hero To Save Me (Just In Time)
JJ Maybank x Fem!Routledge!Reader
Warning(s): mild swearing. that's all.
Request: could you do a fic with jj where y/n is a routledge and after john b is presumed dead, shoupe shows up and ends up taking her to a foster camp (the one kie was actually taken to) and then jj comes to save her while kie and pope go to charlotte?
Notes: This one took a while. It's the first obx fic I've finished since s4 and...yeah. S4 wasn't exactly motivating.
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You wanted to die.
You'd already lost your dad, and now you've lost your brother. You refused to go back to the Cameron's so you holed yourself up in the chateau, crying.
Kie and Pope were pretty much on house arrest, but JJ came by often.
He was the only thing holding you together at that point.
Which was why it hurt all the much more when Shoupe came to take you away.
"The...Camerons have decided to send you to Kitty Hawk," Shoupe said. "They are still technically your legal guardians, so they have a say, since you're not eighteen yet."
Your stomach sinks. The behavorial camp? You'd only heard bad things about the place, the wilderness cookoos nest, and weren't excited to have your adventure ripped out of you.
Tears swelled in your eyes. "I- I don't have a choice do I?"
Shoupe sighed, shaking his head. "No. I'm sorry, you don't."
You nodded, choking up. "Okay. Let me just...pack some stuff."
Shoupe turned away, heading back outside where the Kitty Hawk car was waiting to take you away from the only home you'd ever known.
It was empty now, though. Void of the brother and father that gave it life. A shell of a happy home.
You contemplated texting Kie. Or Pope. Tell someone where you were going.
You also considered running, but where would you go? You didn't have a car, the twinkie was still impounded, and you didn't have anywhere to go where you wouldn't be turned in.
The Carreras and Heywards were lovely, but they'd think it would be best for you to obey, to go to the reformitory camp.
"Okay, JJ," you mumbled, quickly sharing your location with him along with an explanation text. "Be my hero."
With that, you threw a few pairs of clothes and other neccessities into a bag and went to meet Shoupe outside.
So, this was it.
No more chateau. No more Kildaire High. No more boneyard parties or late night bonfires. No more pogues.
You gave your home on last look, trying to keep the tears from falling as you went.
Shoupe was talking with one of the workers, dressed in boring beige that matched the car behind him.
"Ready to go?" Shoupe asked, brightly.
"No," you replied. "But I don't have a choice, remember?"
Shoupe frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face before he turned away.
"Can I check your bag?" The worker asked, shifting his stance to face you.
"Why? Think I'm bringing a weapon or something?"
"From what I hear about you and your friends, it wouldn't be a surprise."
You glared, shoving your bag into the man's arms. "Don't go rooting around in my underwear, would you?"
He didn't dignify your jab with a response, simply rumaged through your few belongings before zipping it back up and handing it to you.
"Everything a-okay, boss?" you snap.
The worker grunts, opening the back door for you to get in.
You send Shoupe one last glare before getting in and having the door slammed behind you.
Meanwhile, JJ's phone dinged with a text that wasn't from the recently resurrected John B.
"Guys, we have a problem," JJ said, looking up from his phone.
"Yeah, obviously, clearing John B.'s name is gonna be-"
"No. I mean a new problem," JJ interrupted. "The Camerons sent Y/N to Kitty Hawk."
Kiara's head snapped up. "The wilderness camp?"
"Yeah," JJ slammed his hand against the lockers. "God damn it! Every time we catch a break it's something else."
"I hate to say this, JJ, but we have bigger fish to fry right now," Pope said. "Y/N will be fine at Kitty Hawk but John B. could be snagged at any moment."
JJ looked scandalized. "Pope they're gonna rip her personality out of her, haven't you heard the stories?"
"Yes, JJ, I have and I know that they don't shoot them on sight, okay?" Pope replied. "Right now, we gotta try to get some evidence against Rafe before the Camerons destory any trace of it, okay?"
JJ looked like he wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut. "Fine. But we get something, I'm going for her, alright? I'm not gonna let her rot in there. Not when her brother's alive."
You were curled in on yourself, knees hugged to your chest as you watched the trees pass by, depression and hopelessness setting in. You hadn't heard back from JJ or anyone.
You felt well and truly alone.
The car pulled up to the gate where a guard was stood.
"I have Y/N Routledge," the driver said.
The guard waved them through and the gates closed behind you.
There were girls all around, gardening, mowing, digging. Manual labor type things.
Your stomach sank.
The worker and driver that picked you up led you passed all the girls (who looked about as excited to be there as you did) into an building where you were handed a uniform and sent into an office to speak with a woman you guessed was the leader of this...lovely establishment.
"Welcome to our camp, Y/N," she said with a smile that was a bit too kind for the soulless nature of the place. "How are you finding it so far."
You shrugged. "Not finding it inviting, if that's what you were hoping for."
The woman ignored you, jotting something down in the notebook before her.
"I understand you recently lost your brother," she said.
You glared at her. "Yeah. Someone was trying to frame him for murder and he died in a thunderstorm. Thanks for bringing that up, it only happened a few days ago, so it's still raw and all that."
She smiled at you. "You know, we can help you process it. Here we give girls like you the opportunity to rebuild."
"Girls like me?"
"Girls from...rough homes."
"I am not from a rough home."
She flipped a page she had. "Stop me if I'm wrong, but for the last several months you were living in your childhood home without a guardian, and with your brother, until Ward Cameron took you in."
"Yeah, and then Ward Cameron's psycho son shot our sheriff and they framed my brother for it, so forgive me if I wasn't too eager to go back," you snapped.
She closed the file. "Y/N. I understand that you are greiving. But this is a new opportunity for you. A good opportunity."
You snorted. "Yeah. I'm sure."
JJ was going insane. He couldn't stop think about you, about John B. It was like the Routledges had moved into his brain.
He tried texting you, no answer. John B. was also MIA, probably ditched the phone he was using.
And now Pope wanted to go to Charleston.
"Charleston?" JJ asked.
"I know," Pope replied. "It's like an eight hour drive plus the ferry, how are we going to get there tonight?"
"Yeah, we'd have to leave like right now."
"I have a free period," Kiara said.
"Material evidence," JJ whispered. "What's that even mean 'material evidence'?"
"It means he can clear John B.," Kiara explained.
"Oh, shit, then we're going to Charleston," JJ said, louder than the cranky librarian cared for.
"I need to tell my mom," Kiara said. "If we get it this time, we are not giving it to Shoupe."
JJ agreed.
Clear John B. This could be huge.
"Guys," JJ said suddenly. "If, uh, if we're clearing John B...I really think Y/N outta be there."
They both groaned. "Not this again, JJ."
"What? Doesn't she deserve to know he's alive? That he can maybe come home?" JJ said.
"Yes, of course she does, but we have to go to Charleston, we can't take a detour-"
"Then I'll go get her!" he whisper-shouted. "You guys go to Charleston and I'll go get Y/N."
Kiara huffed at him. "Do you even have a plan?"
JJ shrugged. "You know me, I make it up as I go."
"JJ, you don't have a car, how are you even going to get there?" Pope said.
JJ frowned. "I'll- I'll go break the twinkie out of lockup and use it."
"What?"
"JJ, what if you get caught?"
JJ groaned. "All right, how about y'all focus on Charleston and I'll focus on Y/N."
In the end, they agreed and let him go off to break out the twinkie and try to break out Y/N.
All the while, you were stuck hanging laundry and gardening. Nothing you'd never done before, but something about being forced to do it made it worse.
Plus, you'd never been a morning person and waking up before 6 a.m. was proving to be a nightmare.
And going to bed at 9 p.m. only made you dream about John B. About how he must've drowned in that thunderstorm. About him calling your name before being swallowed by the ocean.
You woke up crying.
JJ drove up to the Kitty Hawk gate, trying to appear as casually as he could in the beat-up, cracked windshield, hippie van that was the twinkie. It was a miracle that he was able to get it out and get it running without ending up with a flat halfway there.
"How y'all doing?" JJ greeted, giving the gate guard his brightest, most casual smile.
"Can I help you?" The guard said.
"Hey, there, uh, sir, I-" He gestured to the gate. "Camp couselor Laura, I'm- I'm her brother. I was gonna drop off one of these packages back here for her, if that's okay."
One of JJ's strengths was lying out of his ass.
He could only hope that a) there was a couselor named Laura or b) that these guy's didn't know the counselor's names.
"It's real quick, I promise, just in and out," he said. "That all right?"
JJ's heart was pounding, but his exterior remained calm.
"Yeah, go ahead," the guard said, gesturing to the other guard to wave him through.
Fuck. Yes.
"Thank you so much, all right," JJ said. "Y'all have a good day."
He drove the twinkie into Kitty Hawk on a hope and a prayer, easing it into a parking space and getting out.
"Okay, Y/N, if I were you, where would I be hiding out in this shit hole?" he mumbled.
It was an eerie place. Girls walked in formal lines and were watched like hawks at they did so.
JJ waved to one of the watchers. "Hi there, sir, uh, I'm looking for... I'm looking for the office."
The man seemed nice enough, seeming to trust JJ's nice demeanor (and the fact he was let in at all).
"Is there a main lodge or something?"
The man pointed him in the right direction and JJ followed without argument, sauntering right up to the office.
"Hi there, ma'am," JJ said to the woman at the front desk.
"Can I help you son?" she asked.
"I, uh, I have a message for one of your campers," he said. "Uh, Y/N. Y/N Routledge, she's here, right?"
"Unfortunately we're not allowed to do that," the woman responded, looking at him in the way the woman in the high school office always did when he got called into the principal's office. "You're not even supposed to be here on campus."
JJ licked his lips. "Okay. It's...It's just that's it's a very important- May I sit?"
The woman allowed him and he settled into the chair.
"A very important matter, ma'am," He continued.
"Oh, I'm sure it is, sweetie, but we have a policy. No contact from the outside world for the first six weeks."
JJ considered. He had to pull on this woman's heart strings to get anywhere. She was nice enough, had a picture of her cat on her desk...which sadly meant he could manipulate her pretty easily.
"Right...ma'am, it's actually a family matter, and uh," he said. "I'm...I'm related to her, I'm her cousin. So, I know you got a policy and all, but there's just been something that happened recently that..."
JJ was getting choked up.
Fakely, of course, but he was still doing it.
"You know what? I'm getting a little emotional, right now, so I think I should go," he stood up. "I shouldn't even be here, like you said, so I'll leave you alone. But before I leave-"
Here goes nothing.
"Could you just let her know, um...could you let her know that they found her brother?"
The woman seemed taken aback.
"I- uh, I'm sure you've heard that he drowned in a boating accident a few days ago and, uh, they've been looking for him since and...and they finally found him this morning, so."
The woman seemed striken, her eyes even getting a little misty.
"I'll- I'll go now, sorry to bother you..."
Then he was out.
But he wasn't done.
He snuck around the side of the building, watching as the front desk woman and an attendant went up to a building and unlocked it.
"Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?"
You perked up from your space on the bed at the voice and headed to the door.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk, we feel you have the strength to hear all the news," she said when you were in front of her. "Including bad news."
Your stomach sank. "What happened?"
"Well, your cousin was here a minute ago."
Your face flashed with confusion.
As far as you knew, you didn't have any cousins.
"What cousin?"
"A young man, blond."
Your eyes widened.
JJ?
"He asked me to tell you that...that they found your brother."
"Wh- what?"
"He said they found him this morning...that he didn't make it."
Your legs felt like they were going to give out.
No. No, no, no no.
"They- He-" Tears were swelling up in your eyes.
"Oh, oh, honey, why don't you go sit down," she said.
JJ, who was pressed against the building as tightly as he could, felt guilty for using John B. (who wasn't dead) as a way to get to you. But it was the only thing he could think of.
"Take all the time you need."
You went back inside the cabin and dropped on the bed.
JJ. He was there.
And he wouldn't leave you there, would he?
You needed him now more than ever.
That night, two attendants came by the reflection cabin, where they'd placed you for that afternoon.
"Y/N." the woman said. "We know your greiving and feel you're best supported by your peers. So, we're going to relocate you."
Your heart started pounding.
"I- I really feel like I need some more time to reflect," you said.
"No stalling," the man snapped. "Come on, we're putting you in a dorm. Cabin six. Let's go."
You could only hope that if JJ was still there, he was watching closely.
You followed them into Cabin Six, where girls of all kinds turned to look at you as you walked in. Like they were eyeing up the new meat.
"Girls. This is Y/N." the woman said. "She's had some tough family news. Let's show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?"
The way they were looking at you, you guessed the real answer would be no.
They whispered and smirked as one of the male attendants walked you to your bed. It was a top bunk, near the middle of the room.
Not at all like your cosy, window side bed back home.
It made you feel like a trapped animal. And the girls didn't help.
It seemed like love and empathy were the last things these girls wanted to offer you.
At least they didn't taunt or bully, like the Kooks. At least they gave you the peace of being left alone.
You rumaged through your bag as the sun had nearly set and all the girls were getting ready for bed.
You pulled out the photobooth strip of photos you had with the pogues that you'd take on your birthday last year, before everything went to shit. One with each of them and one all together.
You heart ached as you looked at the picture of you and John B. and you felt the tears start to swell in your eyes.
You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to be caught crying around everyone.
Then, your eyes landed on the one of you and JJ.
God. JJ.
If he was there, if he was really going to save you, god, you'd kiss him.
You wanted to go home.
The night settled in and you closed your eyes, but didn't sleep. Waiting and hoping with all your might, that he was going to find you.
And JJ was hoping with all his might that none of these guys with flashlights stumbled upon him.
He carefully made his way to the building labeled "Cabin Group #6" and quietly tried popping the door unlocked with an old card he had in his bag.
It worked, but it also made a loud noise as it opened, causing him to swear under his breath as he eased it open, slipped inside, and eased it closed again.
There were rows of beds there and he had no way of knowing which one Y/N was in.
So, he started asking "Y/N?" as quietly as he could.
Unfortunately, in the otherwise pin-drop silence of the cabin, it was still loud.
One girl clicked on the light and he froze.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked.
Fuck.
"Uh, evening, miss," he tried. "Sorry- Sorry to bother y'all."
Other girls started sitting up and looking at him, none of them so far Y/N.
"Shit. I know this looks bad, but I come in peace," he insisted. "I'm just looking for someone, I'm looking for-"
"JJ?"
He turned at your voice, his heart jumping in his chest as his eyes finally landed on you.
Your eyes were puffy and your hair was messy but you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Y/N." he breathed.
You moved, leg swinging over the bed and climbing down to see him. You rushed into his awaiting arms, hugging him tightly.
"JJ, what're you- how did you- did they really find-"
"No!" JJ assured, a little louder than he meant. "No. No, he's alive, Y/N. Him and Sarah, they both made it. They're hiding out in the Bahamas and Pope and Kie are in Charleston getting something to clear his name so he can come home."
The information hit you like a train. "Are- are you serious? JJ, I-"
"Look, we gotta go, okay? Before someone catches me- or us. Okay, we just gotta," he started moving towards the door.
You quickly grabbed your bag from the side of the bed and rushed after him.
"Ladies," JJ said. "Thank you for your cooperation."
And then you were gone, leaving the other girls with an unlocked door.
You and JJ rushed through the trees, hand in hand.
"I can't believe you did this!" you cried, absolutely elated.
"You thought I was just going to let you rot in there? When John B.'s alive? No way, man. Never."
"JJ," you stopped him in the middle of the trees. "Thank you. Really, thank you. Thank you so much."
He grinned. "You can thank me later, let's just get out of here before they send someone after us."
You both continued running, bags bouncing and hearts pumping, towards the place he'd stashed the twinkie before sneaking back in.
You saw the old van and felt your heart swell. It was just as much home as the chateau.
JJ jumped in the driver's seat and you in the passenger.
"Hey," you said, getting his attention.
When he turned his head, you kissed him.
He sucked in a breath, surprised at your action, so the kiss lasted only a short moment.
"Thank you, again," you said, smiling.
He blinked a moment, trying to get his brain back on line, and cleared his throat. "Yeah, you're- uh. You're welcome. Let's get out of here, yeah?"
His face had flushed, though you couldn't see it in the dark, and he drove off, back towards the Kildaire.
You and JJ were definitely going to need a moment to talk about your feelings later, but for now you were out of Kitty Hawk, your brother was alive, and he was going to be coming home.
You felt more alive on that drive back than you had since your dad went missing.
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ahermitinverted · 3 hours ago
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I am tired of liberals finding this post and yelling at me for getting Trump elected. I will attempt to put my thoughts together concisely.
First point: there is some mythmaking that Kamala did everything she could to win and the American public failed her and the Democrats. This is an inaccurate recasting of history. From the very beginning, Harris's internal polling showed that she was losing this election. You can come up with whatever excuses you want for why that is, but the point stands that she had a losing strategy that she knowingly committed to.
This USA Today article references the Pod Save America Podcast where Kamala's staff talks about this:
Second point: there is mythmaking that she simply had no winning strategy that she could find other than courting Republicans, because she was already too far left to get elected. This is inaccurate and we can see what voters wanted to vote for. I'm not going to go over every example, but I will point to a representative one. I don't think it's controversial to say that a major reason that Kamala lost Michigan is because of her hardline stance on supporting Israel's genocide of the Palestinians. Her strategy was to send Bill Clinton to yell at them to fall in line. Yet those voters didn't abandon Democrats for the Right because we still saw them vote for Rashida Talib. If Democrats wanted more people to vote for them, they could have met the voting base on the matters that they were asking for.
Here's an interesting article from some indie progressive new outlet that goes over some more progressive wins that got the votes that Kamala failed to find:
Third and most irritatingly, people are still mythologizing that third party voters voting for Jill Stein or whoever should have fallen in line and just voted for Democrats to stop Trump. I will acknowledge that it is absurd to demand that random people behave more Machiavellian than the literal politicians to mitigate harm, but that's a conversation for another time. We need to remember that Kamala didn't lose narrowly; she lost everything. She lost every relevant battleground state, and these losses were not due to third party voters.
Michigan: Lost by 80,103 votes. Jill Stein only got 44,607. Even if you give her Cornel West's votes, that's only another 6,664.
Wisconsin: Lost by 29.397 votes. Jill Stein and Cornel West only "stole" 15,028.
Nevada: Lost by 46,008 votes. No one voted Stein or West, but "None of the above" only got 19,625.
Arizona: Lost by 187,382 votes. Stein got 18,319.
Georgia: Lost by 115,100 votes. Stein found 18,229.
Pennsylvania: Lost by 120,266 votes. Stein got 24,538.
These are all states that Biden was able to win in 2020. I need people to understand that Kamala lost this election and it wasn't even close. The Green Party didn't steal it from her. Non-Voting Progressives didn't fail her. She lost so badly that they can't even convincingly run the normal "progressives abandoned us" playbook. They abandoned their own base and traded it for a handful of Liz Cheneys.
My issue with Liberal Electoralism is a desperate belief in the power of the individual voter. I get the impulse to think 'what could WE have done differently,' but ultimately it's not on 'us.' Democrats did not want to win this election, so it is silly to blame the people who pointed out the reasons they were going to lose as it happens.
So yeah I stand by my position. Go donate burritos to unhoused folks. It will do more good than yelling at people for not voting for Kamala. Mostly because the people that you're yelling at probably did still vote 'strategically' for Kamala and still saw her eat shit. Democrats aren't going to save you.
In conclusion vote if you want to. I don't care. But remember that the situation we are in was chosen by the power structures and not by the people who are criticizing them.
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lumdays · 22 hours ago
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please notice me, prince!! ♡
au by @alli-ily << i've been meaning to join this au for a little while now hehehe
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*click for better quality LMAO,,, sorry i have no idea why it's so fucked up but i did transcript the important stuff down here if you want
sir? dame? siyun (aka azul's worst nightmare)
"though they are very capable, they're quite unpopular with nobles as they tend to disobey even direct orders if they figure that there is a more efficient way to do things. they're also a little too honest for high society's taste."
siyun hails from far away lands, practically another world (hehe nod to them being a yuu). it is known that they have two younger siblings and that their parents are both well but it seems that they are no longer in contact.
...ashengrotto despises them (they give him SO many headaches, FREE HIM 🙏🙏)
some more stuff utc,, ARGHHH I BRAINROT OVER AUS LIKE THIS SO FAST💔💔💔 it's the evil manhwa lover in me
ALRIGHT SOOO.... the reason why i keep mentioning azul is because In My Head (please correct me if i'm wrong/you don't want me making up stuff HELPPP i didn't know what to go off aside that there's a bunch of kingdoms and nobles), he was accused/is suspected of embezzlement and siyun was dispatched to monitor him.
...they might as well be the bane of his existence honestly. embezzlement is likely the one crime he has yet to commit but with a highly competent knight keeping a close eye on him, it's gotten a lot harder for him to do anything that is remotely not outstanding-member-of-society material, which pisses him off to no end (...that's kinda just his own assumptions though LMAO, siyun does NOT care that much about the matters of some rich merchant,, unless someone gets hurt that is).
ANYWAYS. this made me think i should probably write down how they feel about lady ariya and prince shin
starting with lady ariya
siyun truly admires her resolve to clear her family's name. but they also can't help but feel something akin pity for her, the path she chose for herself will be long and arduous, especially alone—very few manage to walk out, head held high and pride intact. still, she seems like a promising young lady and siyun is a hopeful person, "i will assist you should you ever call for me."
prince shin (@liyuviq)
humble beginnings, big responsibilities. it's a bit presumptuous, but siyun sort of relates to the illegitimate prince. perhaps not fully—they never experienced Suddenly Being A Royal and sincerely hoped they never would, even in another universe. however, they can relate to the whiplash, the struggle to cram into a few months—no, weeks—everything the other nobles learned over the years, the stares, the whispers... they remember how it all felt, and when they look at their highness shin, they can only hope that they will rise through it all. "then again, i do know i am not your highness. perhaps you don't feel even a fraction of the dread that filled me back then—i would be very glad if so."
i hope i'm not overstepping 👉👈,, aghh also open for interactions for anyone interested hdhdhhdshd, i haven't checked the tag yet HELP
as for the hypothetical target of their affection,,, i fear it may be butler jade 💀💀........... I'M A SUCKER FOR BUTLER X KNIGHT ARCHETYPE 💔💔💔ALSO I BRAINROT OVER YUNDE 2MUCH💔AH AND quick lore rundown
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i imagine their knighthood still stands in another empire—or kingdom,,, sorry my knowledge of the world building here is a little vague HDUAJHF. anyway the point is that they are skilled enough for the royal family themselves to take them under their heavy golden wing—until the ashengrotto accusations and they're given bits and pieces of their freedom back.
I'M REALLY SORRY MOOTS THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ON AND ON..... but like this au's really sick‼️‼️‼️ tags - @heyhellohihowareyou @elenauaurs @distant-velleity @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @skriblee-ksk @sickle-stick @puowei @jadelover69 @tixdixl @nemisisnemi @angelwishess @theleechyskrunkly @chillygourami @bunniehunn @cheerleaderman UUUH DID I FORGET ANYONE.....
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cherryheairt · 3 days ago
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Law of Attraction ch.2
Chishiya x reader fic series
Chapter two: The Beach
chapter one here
Masterlist
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There was nothing left to do but move forward. Since your first game, unfortunately not your last as you grew to find out from a sobbing woman who pleaded for your and Niragi's help to end her before the lasers did on her final ‘visa’ day (which only ended with you covered in blood and Niragi laughing in your face and being no help), you had been traveling through Tokyo on foot. There was no electricity anywhere besides games that distantly lit up, being narrowly avoided by you both until further notice, and although you knew all the other people in this abandoned world were stranded here just like you, you didn't trust any of them.
Desperation made people do crazy shit.
Every noise made you flinch and study the origin, leaving Niragi terribly irate at your jumpiness. He had found a gun somehow, just a little handheld pistol to defend the both of you, but it still made your tenseness fade ever so slightly. On the third day of idleness, Niragi brought up a good point.
“We need to find a game tonight.” He said firmly. “I'm not ending up a bloody mess on the side of the road like that chick.”
“That woman just wanted out. It's not a crime to choose rather than doom yourself to having no say in your own death.” Your words made him quiet for a long moment as you both scanned the windows of the department store you locked up in for the previous night.
Nothing was amiss it seemed, and you took to padding around to find fresh clothes and hygiene products.
“We'll be fine. The games aren't impossible to win.”
You hummed from the hair care aisle. “We don't know that. Thirteen people died in our first day—and I think that was meant to be an easy game.”
“Easy?” He asked, trailing after you. “Sure, maybe after we figured it out, but I'd rather not almost drown again.” The reminder that you owed him your life laid heavy in your heart.
“That's not what I mean. Do you remember the AI's information? She said: Three of Diamonds. Like a deck of cards. If we go off of that, three would be one of the easiest games we would face.”
Niragi had the sense to pale slightly. “What if Diamonds stands for difficulty, too, though. Like, 1-13, but Spade, Club, Diamond, and Heart are leveled 1-4?”
You pondered the idea. It could be, yes, but with the game's objective, you doubted it. “I think Diamonds are a game of intelligence.”
Niragi rolled his eyes but didn't seem too hung up on it. “Great, intelligence games with a bartender. I might not be able to cash in this life debt after all.”
Glaring, you tossed him a pack of hairties. “I'm in college, dipshit. It's not like you came in with a lab coat on, either.”
He turned his head, scoffing. “I design and code game software. Graduated university: top of my class, thank you.”
You both sat in uneasy silence for a while. You broke it first, changing the topic entirely. “I didn't give you those for nothing. Tie back your hair, it got in the way in our first game, I don't want it to happen again.”
Niragi awkwardly fumbled with his midnight black strands of hair, but with no mirror and presumably no experience, it became hard to watch. “You've never put your hair up?” You asked, bemused.
Niragi clicked his tongue irritatedly. “I'll do it later.”
“Give it,” You nearly growled out, snatching it from him and urging him to lean down but the heel of your palm, earning an offended noise from the man. You tied it half-back in a manbun-esque style. Studying your work once he stood back up straight and eyed you with a slightly flustered expression crossing his sour face, you snickered in satisfaction. “Much better. We can see your pretty face now.”
Although it was a half-hearted joke, Niragi seemed to take it as an insult rather than a friendly tease. He scowled at you and continued prowling through the aisles with a heavier step.
After having little luck, you both decided to move on. With your find, you were able to change from your, frankly quite gross, tank and jeans and into more breathable athleticwear that allowed you to freely move around. Niragi didn't get the memo, instead changing from his standard office attire and into black jeans and a loose-fitted silky button-up. He vehemently ignored your barely concealed look of judgement, humming out loud as you looked around the city streets. It was evening now, when the game venues all started to light up and people could sometimes be spotted if you looked from a high vantage point.
He nodded towards a warehouse arena that had lit up moments ago. It seemed to be an old candy-making factory judging by the brightly colored LEDs, but you weren't quite sure. “That one's close.”
“What type do you think it is?” You asked, stashing your bag under the cash register in an old corner store deli. The smell was absolutely awful in it, but you knew it would repel any scavengers who weren't so lucky in their own pickings.
“It's a big arena.” He sniffed, not saying a smart-ass comment like you had started to expect over the past few days. “Physical game, I'd guess. Lots of space to hide or run away in.”
“I'm pretty good at hide and seek.” You said optimistically, earning a genuine laugh from your companion.
“Let's hope it is, then.”
🍒
The warehouse was, in fact, a candy factory. It still smelled sickly sweet as you both wandered through the employee entrance door. It was a pristine grey everywhere, quite a depressing place of work but sleek and clean nonetheless. Conveyor belts were seen through the open gate doors and giant palettes of differently packaged candies were stacked nearly to the ceiling. The sight was nauseating and you avoided looking to the top, hoping that none would be knocked over any time soon. In a smaller area people piled in quickly after.
Some were clearly experiencing their first game, eyes glossed with fear and confusion. Some were wary of others, backing to walls and observing their opponents with hard stares. Most seemed to collectively be anxious and alone, a select few coming in with another at their shoulder.
One particular duo caught your eye, looking out of place next to other pairs. About the same height, one styled his medium-length wavy and greasy hair into a loose bun at the back of his head, facial hair lining his uniquely handsome face as he glanced over everyone with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Even his wardrobe was eccentric, a fedora with sunglasses stacked on top of it adorning his head and a colorful shirt-slack combo. The other was his stark contrast, buzzcut hair and wearing a simple outfit of a black wife-beater and matching cargo jeans, showing off muscled arms. Military, easy, and possibly your most dangerous enemy or valuable ally in a game of brawn.
You shared a glance with Niragi, who also caught interest in the new additions. Only mere moments after they walked in, the door shut behind them and the AI's voice rang. Stepping closer to Niragi, you looked to your phone for the instructions.
“Player Requirement met. Closing registration…”
“Game: Laser Tag. Difficulty: Five of Spades.”
A five. On the presumed scale of 1-13 like you guessed, a five was still on the easier side. Five days would be added to your visa if you survived, providing ample time to set up a secure home base for you and Niragi.
Niragi seemed satisfied, patting his handgun with a pleased grin. “That sounds promising.”
“Rules: Two teams will be assigned from the 28 players in the game. The Red and Blue teams will use their provided laser guns to play one round of laser tag.”
“How many lives do we get?” A nervous young voice spoke out, leading your eyes to a teenage boy dressed in a grimy t-shirt and pajama pants. He'd been here for days already, used to the games but not acclimated enough to find supplies. He was scrawny, collarbones visible under his thin shirt and cheeks hollow like he'd not eaten in days. “In the arcade, its always three.” He says, hugging himself.
You hummed assuringly. “Maybe. Or whatever team gets the most tags.” You said, slightly reluctant but knowing no one else would speak up and comfort him. He weakly smiled at you, shuffling ever so slightly closer to your pairing.
A door clicked open, revealing an employee break room that held coat racks of vests with attached guns, classic arcade style. “Can we pick our teams?” You whispered to Niragi, shivering at the temperature drop that seemed to happen after the rules explained. He didn't reply.
Grabbing a vest from the rack, you shrugged it over your shoulders and strapped it across your chest. Next to you, the teenage boy followed your lead and did the exact same actions. Picking up a gun each, the players all glanced around at each other with distrust in their eyes and tense bodies. Niragi was confidently standing almost entirely in front of you, blocking most people from your view—or looking at you. Unconsciously or not, you were grateful.
The timer dinged while counting down time for players to gear up. Seeing the boy's grip shaking over the hold of his trigger, you reached out and placed your own over his. Muttering, you comfortingly said: “It's okay. Treat it just like you're out playing laser tag with your friends. Do you go to the arcade often?”
Swallowing harshly, he nodded. “Almost every weekend.”
You smiled. “I haven't been in years. If we're on opposite teams, go easy on me.”
He laughed, nodding softly. “I'm Hoshiko.”
You told him your own in turn, and the timer finally stopped. The room went completely dark, and mutters released into the room. The vests all lit up at once, lighting it in blue and red. Looking down at your gun, you found that you were blue. Niragi turned to you, smirking when he saw your colors matched. “Watch my back this time.” He said plainly.
Hoshiko was blue, too, and you let out a subtle sigh of relief. “Take care of me.” You said, nudging his arm. He nodded with furrowed brows, seemingly set in his goal.
“Clear condition: Do not get hit with a laser gun. Time limit: 20 minutes.”
You sucked in a breath. “One hit is a loss?” To have to sit out and allow your teammates to carry on after only one hit would be a challenge. People would drop like flies, even in the large arena.
“Game starts in: One minute.”
People immediately began their rush out of the employee room to find beginning points. Hoshiki led the way for you and nodded towards the office areas upstairs. “We can see everything from there.”
Niragi obviously had the brains to agree, not arguing with the much younger boy's decision. Your trio rushed up the metal staircase and to an open office in the middle of the hall, overlooking a good majority of the line of conveyors. In the distance, the enormous stacks of wrapped cases were slightly visible. “Did anyone else come up here?” You asked, leaning below the window and glancing over it to peek. The blue glow from all of your packs lit up the small space as the timer ticked down.
“20 seconds remaining.”
You tensely gripped your gun, taking a deep breath in and listening to the footsteps below.
“I didn't see anyone else.” Niragi said. “But don't assume anything.”
You and Hoshiko nodded together. “Game start. 20 minutes until the game finishes.” The factory lit up with LEDs and strobes, highlighting the floors and walls periodically and making vest colors harder to see.
Immediately, blasts were heard throughout the arena. Shoes squeaking on the metal floor echoed throughout the open area and shouts of panic did, too. Niragi sprang up to join the action, looking both ways down the hall before situating his gun on the railing while kneeling. You and Hoshiko followed behind, each finding a spot on the railguard to shoot from. You flinched as a red-hot laser shot just past your head and into the wall. Whipping your head around, your eyes widened in horror of realizing that the lasers used from the guns were the very same ones that shot down from the sky and killed game losers.
“We only get one hit because it'll kill us.” You told Niragi and Hoshiko, who were both coming to the same realization in different ways. Hoshiko was nearly hyperventilating, hugging his gun to his chest and leaning below the railing to shield himself. Niragi, on the other hand, was cheering and celebrating his own killshot.
He ducked when the dead man's teammate spun around and blasted towards the upper area. Laughing, he seemed high on adrenaline as he faced you. “You didn't put that together already, sweetheart?”
Swallowing, you braced yourself at the sound of thundering footsteps climbing to the office hall. “Go!” You urged, taking Hoshiko's arm and running towards the end of the hall and towards the other stairwell. Lasers lit up the arena with red and blood littered the floors as fluid as water might. You all hid among a line of conveyors, watching a few blues and reds alike taking turns jumping from hiding spots and shooting at the opposite sides.
Niragi was the boldest of you three, taking risks and peaking out to discreetly shoot down any stragglers who tried to move positions. Each little cheer he did made your stomach squeeze uncomfortably, but you forced yourself to understand the situation. It was them or you, after all.
Bringing up your phone, you read the black digits: ‘15:27’. Only five minutes had passed and yet it felt like hours with your blood pumping hot through your veins.
Niragi leaned down, whispering to you and Hoshiko. “See that guy in the black tank?”
You both nodded after a glance up. The buzzcut guy from the break room was dominating the competition—blue side's, luckily—from a clever spot on the second floor of the storage area. He peaked up strategically and shot at the Reds hiding amongst the large stacks of candy. “I'm going to make for the wall between storage and the conveyors.” He said. “With him, we can take most of the Red guys down.”
“You'll be exposed!” Hoshiko said urgently, pleadingly shaking his head.
“You both are covering me.” Niragi said sternly, earning saucer eyes from you.
“I'm not a good shot, Niragi.” You told him. “If you get shot—”
“Don't let me.” He nearly growled out, wasting no time and run-crouching over to the concrete wall. You and Hoshiko held you breath all the while, and you didn't even register the Red-lit woman stalked Niragi with a keen eye as she spotted him skittering across the floor. Stepping from her hiding spot, aiming right for his back.
It was Hoshiko that moved first, lifting his gun to tuck it below his chin and rest on the conveyor to aim for her leg. When the trigger was pulled and the gun's nozzle was left slightly smoking from the intense heat, all you could hear was the woman's pained scream as she dropped her gear and clutched at her leg. Panting on the floor, she rocked herself back and forth before turning her angered gaze to you two. Her Red vest turned off and she was entirely in the shadows. Gasping, you pulled the boy down and hidden away with you again.
“Shit.” Hoshiko cursed. “Can the guns still work if you're out?”
“I don't know…” You trailed anxiously, sweat-laced hands gripping the handle of your gun and sucking a deep breath in. “We can't risk that.”
Hearing the hobbling footsteps approach the belt, you hopped straight up onto your feet and shot forward. The red laser momentarily lit up her face, illuminating the horrified expression on her face as it hit her right in the chest. The ‘thud’ echoed in the immediate area as she went down. You killed a woman. In a game of laser tag, you shot down and murdered your opponent with no hesitation. Hoshiko rose to your level, grabbing your arm with a worried expression. “We need to move spots. They'll hear that fall and know someone is right here.”
Wordlessly, you nodded. Niragi had to do the rest himself. Hopefully, that woman was the only one who'd noticed his movement. You and Hoshiko crouched back below the conveyors, using them as covers to stalk below, avoiding other players who seemed to trip over each other in panic. You both reached a small room to the side, finding it to be some kind of broom closet. “Get—” You started, whipping around when a loud, ‘crash!’ went through the entire factory instead. In the dark, you could see the silhouette of the towers of packages start to tumble down like dominos. You could hear Niragi and another man's voice call out triumphantly towards each other, cheering and whooping coming solely from Niragi but the other man affirming the victory that the falls brought.
Glancing up, you saw the man in the black outfit who'd been at the high position and shooting from a distance waving for Niragi to run back into the working part of the factory. He obeyed, surprisingly, cackling as he ran with his gun in hand back to the former hiding spot that you three had taken.
“Seven players remaining.” The robotic feminine voice chimed. You hummed, wondering which team had more. With the large stacks of boxes falling, you assumed that your team had taken the majority of the Reds down in that room.
Hoshiko shouted next to you, yanking you down from your spot and into the wall. You almost scolded him for the unnecessary manhandling, but quickly paused when you saw him shoot down a limping Red team man who escaped the box flooded area. His gun was pointed right at the two of you, only stopped by Hoshiko's own precise aim to his chest. He was animated in the air for a second before falling completely limp in a pile of blood and flesh.
You held Hoshiko's shoulder, staring at the dead man with a silent gape. There wasn't any time to dwell on it when another Red came darting across the working line room. “Shit-” You cursed, jumping to run behind a wall with the still shell-shocked boy.
You heard the padding of his heavy footsteps approaching with vigor, and clutched your gun tight to your chest to prepare for another one-on-one shootout. You hoped desperately that even if you were shot, you could take him down at the same time to prevent him from harming Hoshiko.
A shot interrupted your prayers, and you gingerly peeked out to see a red-hot hole cooling down to black right between the man's eyes, blood pooling around his head on the reflective floor. Looking up, you saw Niragi with an unimpressed raised brow and gun leaning on his shoulder casually as if he'd not just shot down a man.
“Saved you again.” He snickered, though he didn't sound too hung up over it.
Standing on shaky legs, you shook your head. “I shot down a woman who saw your big head switch spots.” You defended yourself.
Sharp laser shots sounded in the much quieter arena, presumably from the AI rather than any players. They were too rapid and short to come from your guns.
“All Red players eliminated. Game clear.”
Looking at your gun, you shoved it to the floor and wiped your sweaty hands on your pants.
“Really now?” Niragi sounded surprised. Glancing around, he spotted the woman's still body in front of the first conveyor that they hid behind. “That's still two saves versus one. Don't forget it,” he nudged your arm with his own, not bothering to lose the gun. Ignoring him, you glanced down to Hoshiko, who hugged his legs and shivered.
“Hoshiko,” You started gently. “We need to go. Do you have a group?”
He looked up at you with glossy eyes, shaking his head. “I—I came here with my brothers. But the first game killed them both.”
Niragi eyed you, kicking your shoe from behind as if to say ‘don't do it’.
“Niragi and I are on foot right now, but it's safer with three. Come with us.” You offered a hand out to him, smiling when he grabbed it to hoist himself up. Niragi clicked his tongue behind you.
At the break room's emergency exit, you three found the two men from the beginning holding up the 5 of Spades card and inspecting it. Apprehensively, you stilled when spotting them, unknowing of their friendliness beyond playing on the same team for less than half an hour.
“Hey.” The eccentric man with the bun greeted first. Niragi narrowed his eyes, nodding his own silent greeting. The more intimidating of the pair was completely silent and still, crossing his large arms other each other and studying all three of you with hawk eyes.
“Have you been here long?” He continued, obviously unconcerned with the awkward tension in the room.
“About a week.” Niragi rounded up, tossing aside the vest and gun, making sure the gun in his belt was visible to both men. Smart, you thought as the buzzcut glanced at the other man with a raised brow.
“Most people don't even make it that long.” The man laughed. “My name is Takeru—or Hatter, if you please. This is Aguni, my…security.” He clapped Aguni on the shoulder, and you half-expected that Aguni would shank him in the stomach for the close touch. Surprisingly, he stayed perfectly still and nodded at the mention of his name.
“Niragi.” Niragi introduced himself, intrigued at the introductions. To you, it felt like you were about to be given a sales pitch.
You introduced yourself and Hoshiko shortly, staying in front of the boy while he was still shaky and unnerved.
“You must be tired from all the walking. Here and there, no electricity and running water. Water bottles grow scarce in all the scavenged stores.”
“What's your point?” Niragi asked.
“You look like you can handle yourself. At The Beach, we've been recruiting people like you.”
“The Beach?”
“A utopia.” Hatter spread his arms out dramatically like a preacher might, and you questioned just how much truth comes from his mouth. “There's only a few of us now—but we've managed to get electricity and water working again with our resident geniuses. Cars, too, so no more walking aimlessly for the next game. Aguni here is our militant branch head, he joins most of the games to keep our residents safe and returned back to The Beach.”
Sounded too good to be true. Electricity and running water run by only a few people. “Where's this utopia?” You asked apprehensively.
Hatter's eyes locked on you and he smiled brightly, a cheek to cheek grin that made you certain he was missing some screws. “Come with us. Niragi, you were good with that gun, you could be placed right under Aguni.”
Niragi seemed to think over the offer in his head, shifting his weight and glancing between Aguni and Hatter. “They can come?” He asked, nodding towards you and Hoshiko.
“Of course! All are welcome at The Beach.”
“We'll check it out.” Niragi agreed for you all, earning a scorching look from you and you pulled his arm.
“I never agreed to that. We should discuss it, Niragi.” You hissed in his ear.
He yanked his arm back, looking down at you like you were a mere animal. A dog begging for food at his heels. “There's nothing to discuss.” He left the alleyway with Hatter, following him to the car that was promised.
Aguni stayed a moment longer, eyeing you before he followed after.
You and Hoshiko shared a glance. “Do you want to go?” You asked. Without Niragi, you wouldn't be half as safe. A young woman and a teenage boy alone on the desolate streets of abandoned Tokyo with scavengers hiding about would not prove positive for anyone. Niragi knew that and took advantage of it.
“I think we should just give it a chance. If Hatter is lying, we'll leave.” He suggested, looking a hundred times more weary than when they first joined.
“Are you okay?” You stopped him from approaching the car. “We could take a moment, if you need it.” Truthfully, your own stomach was churning with the weight of Laser Tag's deaths—directly and indirect. You thought your first game was horrible, with the thirteen other people dying in their water-filled cages surrounding you, but at least you were not responsible for their deaths like you were now. How many people would you have to kill just to make it to the next game and kill some more?
“I'm okay,” he smiled weakly, leading the way to the car. “A shower would be nice, though.”
You laughed and agreed.
🍒
Hatter was telling the truth. The Beach was a reformed resort with fully functioning utilities and people. There were only a few, leaving the lobbies and pool empty as you passed through them like ghost towns. The bright lights were comforting, though, making up for it. Hatter and Aguni led the way to an upstairs rentable office room that had all the previous decorations removed and replaced with more practical ones. A large white table sat in the middle of the room, with three people sitting at it as if they were waiting for you all.
“Everyone, meet Mira, Ann, and Kuzuryu.” He introduced you three in turn. Murmured greetings were exchanged between everyone. Kuzuryu was wearing a formal suit and square glasses, looking groomed and proper despite the wildness of the new world. Mira was wearing a black blouse and dark red slacks, a mirror of the former and yet looking twice as sweet with a smile and wave towards you. An was in a white blouse and denim shorts, expression hidden behind sunglasses but still managing to look intimidating.
“These are our number two, three, and four.”
“Why are they numbered?” You piped up, glancing at the bracelets on their arms.
“I'm glad you asked, my dear!” Hatter appeared behind you, grabbing your shoulders and laughing joyfully.
“Now that you know The Beach is real, I can explain the purpose of it.”
You and Niragi sat next to each other at the table, you sitting opposite of Mira and him next to Hoshiko as you waited for an explanation. Kuzuryu stood and walked to a wooden wall, opening it like a barn door to reveal a few scattered paintings of cards. Your eyes ran across the wall, scanning for the cards that were painted on. It wasn't many, and you assumed it was still a work in progress as a few were crossed out and others were still half-done.
“The purpose of The Beach and all of its citizens, future and current, is to collect every single one of the cards from the games.”
“For what?” Hoshiko asked quietly, wringing his hands together in his lap. He looked interested.
“To get out of this world.” Hatter said, demeanor suddenly extremely serious. “I have a theory. If every card is collected, then the game is completed and one person at a time can go home per deck of cards.”
“That's why we have rankings.” Kuzuryu spoke up. “Number one goes first. Then two, and three, and so on.”
“I am number one, of course.” Hatter said with a charming bow.
“That would take years!” You exasperated. “Who would wait that long?”
Mira giggled in front of you. “That's why we're recruiting people all over Tokyo to join us. The more people contributing cards, the faster we can all go home.” Basing everything off of a theory was risky.
“I'm not sure I want to stay here.” You told Hatter, following his pacing form around the room.
“No?” He asked. “Not even if you were offered a place on the executive table?”
“Would I be able to keep it if you offer everyone new a spot at it?” You bit, glancing at the entrance door that was blocked by Aguni.
He waved the question off. “Of course. The ranking is decided by how many cards someone has contributed, and their cards’ value. As long as you keep playing the games, you can keep your number.”
“Still. It'll be faster if I do it alone. Good luck, Hatter.” You stood from your chair, yelping when you were yanked back by Niragi.
“We'll stay.” He promised simply.
“Niragi—”
“Great!” Hatter clapped, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Let's get you three some numbers. What are your cards?”
“Three of diamonds and five of spades, obviously.” Niragi answered for you both. “We didn't grab our first card, though.”
Hoshiko reached into his pocket and slid a three of hearts to the table's head. Hatter nodded appreciatively, pocketing it for himself. “That's no matter. We'll find another three of diamonds game eventually.” Mira moved to cross out the three of hearts with a fresh can of paint, her neat handwriting showing no flaws on the white wall.
Ann reached into a bag and handed you three numbers. Six, seven, and eight. “Distribute as you please. You three have an even amount.”
Hoshiko handed you the ‘Seven’ and took the ‘Eight’ for himself as Niragi immediately slapped ‘Six’ on his own wrist. You didn't give a damn what number you were assigned, knowing that tonight while everyone else slept you would simply sneak out. Hoshiko, too, if he accepted your offer.
“Your room numbers correspond with your numbers.” She continued.
“Before Hatter left, we were discussing the rules of The Beach.” Aguni said. You almost forgot he was there with his silence. He sat slumped at the other end, opposite of Hatter.
“Ah, yes.” He said. “We only got to brainstorming but during our drive I think I figured some out.”
Ann nodded for him to continue and she brought out a pen and paper from her bag yet again.
“Number one.” He started, drafting it. “Live as you desire. Drink, party, fuck. Its some of our last days, might as well be free.” Some nods and mutters of agreement filled the room. Seeing no complaints, he leaned back in his seat and continued.
“Number two.” He scanned the room, lingering on you, Mira, and Ann for moments too long. Confused, you glanced at both of them and found no luck in an explanation. “We must all wear bathing suits at all times. This goes hand in hand with ‘no weapons’. Nothing is hidden in swimwear.”
Before you could plead your case, Niragi spoke up. “No weapons?” Like that was the biggest issue. In fact, you actually liked that rule.
Hatter laughed and waved him off, too. “Not you, Niragi. The Militants are permitted guns. To keep order, only a few select people can be exempt.”
“Can't we just do room checks?” You asked.
“If you're against the policy, you could wear normal attire during games. But there is no further argument.”
Well, damn.
“Only one more rule. Short and sweet to keep confusion to a minimum.” He decided.
“Death to all traitors.”
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